by Iris Walker
“My apologies, Lady Robin.”
“It’s fine,” she muttered, ignoring the strange title and scooting closer to the table. It was beautiful, mahogany that shone in warm firelight, with a pristine polish.
Harley yanked on the chair at her right, giving Robin a noncommittal nod of acknowledgement. Before she could respond, Ezra took the chair on her left, sitting board straight and calm as a cucumber. The professor sat next to Darian, who snapped his fingers at nobody in particular. “Let’s begin, shall we?”
Side doors that she hadn’t even noticed opened up, and humans walked in with trays of food, gleaming in the light.
Robin’s brow pulled together as a silver dome was placed in front of her, Harley, and a few others around the table. Humans buzzed around, pouring drinks and setting up silverware, and platters of rolls.
And then, just as quickly as they’d arrived, the humans filtered out of the room and closed the side doors behind them.
Darian’s smile deepened, and he raised his glass as a signal to start.
Harley was the first to lift her lid off, revealing steaming duck and fancy potatoes, and all manner of gourmet cuisine that Robin couldn’t even identify.
After a moment of watching her eat, Harley’s piercing green eyes flicked up to hers. “Well, I’m not gonna take it off for you.”
Robin jolted out of the stare and returned her attention to her own dome, which she set off to the side just like Harley had. She’d never been served a meal this gourmet in her entire life, and boy, did it taste delicious.
Muffled small talk spread out across the table, and Robin let her eyes shift over to Darian when he wasn’t looking. He was in his own element here, in the castle, surrounded by his loyal subjects.
Humans had filtered in, pairing up with each of the vampires in the room as the conversation continued, all soft murmurs and amused laughter, making Robin feel queasy and tense. She remembered Cain, shoving his way towards her neck, how her heart had pounded frantically a second before she’d tumbled into that cloudy haze that followed his kiss.
Though admittedly, these humans were displaying no such anxiety.
It was strange to be an onlooker to something entirely horrific to her, but so commonplace in the present company. Darian was smiling, chatting up a storm with his compatriots, and even the human that had sidled up against him chimed in, a drunken smile on her face and a distant look in her eyes.
Charming, that was a good word for him. He was certainly a charmer, and he liked knowing that he was.
But Robin didn’t fall for it for one second; he could try to dazzle her and summon her and shower her in all the niceties he wanted, but she wasn’t going to let it distract her from the fact that he was a monster, and an incredibly dangerous one at that.
A month ago, he’d wanted her head on a spike. Vehemently, and publicly. The only thing that had changed was that now, supposedly, she had something to offer him. Some power that nobody knew about, that was slithering under the surface of her red birthmarks.
That was why he’d taken her, and that was what he hoped to gain.
That was why he’d kept her alive.
Snake, she thought, continuing her meal in tense silence.
About an hour passed, of eating and drinking and talking, Robin observing Harley chatting it up with her other strongblood companions and occasionally muttering something to her, and Ezra doing the same. She didn’t like how Darian’s burning red eyes kept centering on her, amused and smug.
It was strange, sharing such a calm, normal meal with all these creatures. Creatures? she thought. Is that the right term? Is that a rude term? She wasn’t well versed in supernatural etiquette and felt silly even thinking about it.
After the conversation died down, Darian sat back in his chair and clapped his hands together. Servants rushed in, collecting all the plates and dishes and cleaning everything up like they’d never even been there.
The whole experience was dizzying, and Robin felt the urge to thank them, but nobody else was, and she didn’t want to break the silence.
After the doors closed for a second time, Darian addressed the room. “The purpose of this meeting is for a special endeavor, an opportunity, given to us in these times of uncertainty. We have the honor of forming a panel, which is dedicated to learning more about the events that took place a month ago, during the attack on House Demonte,” he announced, his smile turning to Robin, along with all the other eyes in the room. “I thank you all for your willingness to help in the interest of the collective good of our races.”
Spin it however you want, Robin simmered. We all know you’re just as greedy as Calliope.
Darian turned to the main doors and snapped his fingers.
As Robin faced the doors, craning her neck and looking towards the entrance, she heard them creak open.
Three figures walked in.
First, a vampire with long hair and wide-set features. Second, a fierce, no-nonsense strongblood wearing black garb. And third, a prisoner in iron shackles.
Robin’s heart jolted in her chest as she saw that the prisoner shuffling alongside them was none other than Magnus Demonte.
Reykon
The drive up to House Prior wasn’t exactly what you would call enjoyable.
Seattle, House Prior’s homeland, was twelve hours away from Sacramento, and as far as he could tell, they’d gone for the straight shot. Needless to say, by the end of it, he was pretty fed up. It didn’t help that those twelve hours of tense silence were a perfect opportunity for every thought he’d been shoving away to bubble up to the surface.
At first, he’d been frustrated at the detour, but the more he thought about it, he realized with anger and despair that he wouldn’t even know where to begin looking for Robin. Georgie was their best lead to finding out where she’d gone, who had her, and what had happened after Ivan pushed them off the dam.
Or if…
Every muscle in his body tensed up at the thought of her, pale and cold and covered in blood, just like the night they’d found her on Magnus’s floor.
Don’t jump to conclusions.
There was a lot that they didn’t know and dwelling on it was making his hairs itch and giving him a permanently tensed jaw. That certainly wasn’t helping anybody.
What they did know was that Ivan was a backstabbing prick.
Who exactly he’d done the backstabbing for, though, was still in the dark. They knew that he’d been in prison that night, before they’d even showed up, and they knew that he’d said it was because he’d discovered the plan and spoken out against it.
Obviously, he couldn’t be trusted. They needed intel, and they needed a paper trail of what Ivan was in for. That was where Georgie was supposed to come in, though that plan had backfired.
What is Georgie even doing with the Priors? he wondered. Clearly, it had been a setup, which meant that Georgie and the Priors had already gotten pretty chummy. And what Georgie had mentioned about the deal for people fleeing House Demonte hadn’t slipped his mind, either.
As much as he had openly rebelled against his people for the fierce connection he felt with Robin, Reykon had still spent his entire life as a loyal subject to his people. Demonte was his home. No matter where he was, he would never have wished ill will on it, because he knew that a vampire house, no matter how ruthless its master, was mostly comprised of innocent humans and strongbloods and all manner of other individuals that had nothing to do with the power games of a select few.
And they deserved protection from the outside world.
Reykon had been living in the outside world, and just in case he’d forgotten what a lawless wasteland it was for supernatural creatures, he’d been given a refresher course.
In short, after a month of wading through rogue vampires, being hunted by casters, and trying to find Robin in the midst of power-grubbing pandemonium, Reykon was exhausted and ready to get some answers.
The van finally rolled to a halt, and one glan
ce at Lucidia’s face confirmed that she was exactly as grouchy as he was about the whole thing. When they were dragged out, the building in front of them was not the same House Prior that they remembered.
Blinding overcast light hit them, and Reykon squinted against it. The air was thick here, moist and dense, and in every direction, fancy modern houses stood out.
A neighborhood? he thought in confusion.
A rich neighborhood.
The massive house that loomed up a ridiculous number of stairs was the most dazzling of them all, and as Reykon was dragged past the van, he spotted a glittering lake right off the edge of the driveway, dotted with speedboats and marinas and bisected by a large, low bridge. Past the lake, the skyline of Seattle stood out in choppy spikes.
This mansion was all squares and angles, glass and slate gray, at the top of a long staircase, with inset flower beds lining either side.
Reykon narrowed his eyes, peering up to the vampire at the top of the walkway, who stared at them with a triumphant smirk.
Lucidia
This is your grand hall? she thought to herself, sitting down in the massive living room. A stunning view of Lake Washington shone out from the large, ceiling tall windows. Modern couches in whites and grays littered the floor, set up in geometric-esque configurations, with bright throw pillows. It looked like a spokesperson for modern furniture had gone to town. A blue glass fireplace occupied the wall to their left, which also had more chairs and strangely shaped seating options.
The vampire that had greeted them at the door sat on the largest couch, still beaming at the two strongbloods. “How was the drive?” he asked.
Lucidia scowled and looked him up and down. He wore sharp navy pants and a crisp white shirt with the arms rolled up. A pair of expensive sunglasses hung from the neckline, which was two buttons open for a casual, yet put together look. But to Lucidia, it was laughable. Who is this clown?
“What are we doing here?” she growled.
The vampire smiled wider. “Right to business, then?”
“Yeah,” Reykon muttered. “If you don’t mind. We’re on a bit of a schedule.”
“Welcome, Reykon and Lucidia, to House Prior,” he said, looking around the large, open space.
“Isn’t it a little closer to the human world than it should be?” Reykon asked, his tone biting.
“They don’t mind us. We’re quite good neighbors, and we pay all our HOA’s.”
Lucidia raised an eyebrow. “I seem to remember it differently.”
“We moved locations. A lot’s changed, actually,” the vampire said, before glancing to his strongbloods and gesturing to the cuffs. “Remove those, would you? We don’t need them here.”
Lucidia eyed the vampire skeptically, still trying to decide how this situation was going to play out. But even as the strongbloods removed their cuffs and stood back, there was no hostility. No interrogation, and no prison.
“I take it you wanted an audience?” Lucidia put out, irritated that she was the one fishing for information.
“Yes, most definitely. You two have cooked up quite the reputation by traveling to metropolis after metropolis and asking questions. There are a lot of rumors going around, and I wanted the inside scoop.”
“Who exactly are you?” Reykon asked sharply.
“Landon Prior, Head of House Prior,” the vampire said, flashing another charming smile.
“What happened to Master Cecil?” Lucidia asked.
“Cecil chose to step down from the role. We’ve been experiencing some growing pains as an entire house, and at the recent turn of events, we decided it was time for a change.”
“You offed your own master?” Reykon accused.
“No, heavens no,” Landon said with a laugh. “We politely asked him to retire, and he did.”
“And by retirement, you mean a dirt nap?” Lucidia shot out. It was a common practice during times of mutiny for vampires, to lock their old leaders in a bricked-up prison. Vampires didn’t exactly have the most humane track record.
Landon’s expression faded to genuine confusion, and he spoke a little slower, like they were the idiots. “No, no, he actually chose to retire. He’s on one of the San Juan’s, sipping cocktails, last I heard. He’s got a detail of his closest companions out there, so it worked out to everyone’s advantage.”
“Uh-huh,” Lucidia hummed. “And everybody in your house was fine with that little changeup?”
“Transitions are generally rocky, and we had our fair share of opposition, but it seems reason won out. It was time to go a different direction, and I believe our constituents were quite thankful for our reforms.”
“What reforms would those be?” Reykon interjected.
“For one, we’re no longer a part of the Royal Vampire Houses.”
Lucidia scowled. “What?”
“We seceded.”
“You can’t just secede from the coalition…” Lucidia said, shaking her head. “What did the other masters have to say about it?”
“They were a bit too preoccupied with the caster attack to mind,” Landon said with a triumphant smile. “Though I am sorry about your losses, Reykon Thraxos. Magnus may have gone a bit wacky towards the end there, but he’s always been a fierce leader, to my recollection.”
Lucidia observed his smug demeanor, and his crew, standing around the room, some of them lounging in the kitchen, others laughing in the back. It was like being in an entirely foreign world, and it certainly wasn’t a change that would have happened in a single month. “You planned this ahead of time and then used the chaos as a cover to go unnoticed?” she accused.
“It was quite opportune for our interests,” he said simply.
Honestly, one of the largest vampire houses breaking off from the rest of the group was just another tally on her list of strange, world-altering occurrences that had happened in the recent past. There were so many different groups of people scrambling for power that one more on the list wasn’t the biggest leap for her. “What interests are those?”
“We’ve got a collective vision for a better world,” Landon explained. “One where supernatural creatures can exist without the rigid ties of slavery and ownership, and one where we can live side by side with the humans, not slinking around in the shadows like common criminals. Call it the American Dream. We’re certainly in the locale, aren’t we?”
Reykon was stiff in the seat next to her. “Until the humans start noticing you.”
“We’ve taken many precautions against that and are actively stoking a pleasant working relationship.”
Lucidia barked a laugh. “That sounds like a lovely vision.”
“You mock it, understandably,” Landon admitted. “But it’s already in place. And you’re going to help me maintain it.”
“Just like that?” Lucidia said with a cold smile.
“I should hope so.”
“And if we don’t?” she retorted.
His smile dropped to a cold, cunning glare. “Then I’ll contact my good friend Master Darian and see if he’s interested in accepting my newly acquired show of goodwill.”
Lucidia scowled, fear sinking into her gut. “You haven’t contacted him already?”
“No,” Landon said with a wicked smile. “I thought you might serve a better purpose here than rotting in a prison cell, or even worse, on the chopping block.”
A shiver raced up Lucidia’s spine and her own expression hardened. Maybe you do fit in with the other masters after all, she speculated. “Well, you’ve got a persuasive argument.”
“I thought you might say that,” he said, his red eyes lighting up once more. “So now we’ve talked about what I’ll do if you don’t help me, but now I want to tell you what you’ll get if you do.”
She gave Reykon a side glance and squared her jaw. “We’re all ears.”
Chapter 4 Fire
Robin
Robin’s chair scraped backwards as every horrible memory she’d lived through at the hands of Ma
gnus Demonte rose to the forefront of her mind. That same pounding heartbeat surged between her ears as she relived the crushing blow that had slammed Reykon across the roiling ocean and into a ship, the same sword that had cut Willow and Dag down, and the same razor sharp fangs that had ripped into her own neck.
Just before she was able to stand, Harley’s tight grip on her wrist snapped her out of the panic. Harley yanked her down, back into the chair. “Sit,” she said with a neutral tone. “He can’t hurt you.”
Robin’s chest tightened as she watched the figure in chains, dragged over to the other side of the table.
Upon further inspection, she realized that he’d changed drastically from the last time she’d seen him. Gone was the towering vampire that had commanded an entire palace. In front of her was a scraggly man that only vaguely resembled the person he used to be. His skin seemed sallow, and he’d lost a large amount of his previous muscle; though admittedly, he was still big by normal standards.
The most marked difference stood out in his eyes.
Hazel eyes, like the color of dirt in the sun. Not burning red, and not full of rage. Human eyes, that were full of disdain and the sorrow of prison, complete with a very human, very ragged blonde beard.
It made her mind swim.
“What…” Robin started, unsure of where to finish. “What happened to him?”
“You happened,” Darian said, voice oozing with curiosity. “Or, at the very least, you and Calliope happened. That, my dear, is precisely what we are trying to determine.”
Robin shook her head, a deep scowl on her features.
“My contact from the inside of House Demonte will fill us in on the events that took place that night,” Darian announced, gesturing to the vampire that dragged Magnus over. “Ivan, if you don’t mind.”
The vampire’s eyes flicked nervously to Robin’s.
A prickle of unease scratched at the back of her skull. She didn’t like the way he seemed shifty, the way he stood uncomfortably next to Magnus, or the way he was looking at her.