Rafaela

VYM

The bastards.

"I was sure a little blood spill from your pet would catch your attention," my father sneers, readjusting his disgusting bloodied scarf around his neck, the scent of Khiva's blood wafting from it. Pets are off-limits, and he knows it. Khiva reeks of me as I reek of him. My father should be disgusted, but he's an anomaly, drinking and thus living from his own blood's kind, and who am I to tell my father otherwise... Poison, on the other hand, could slip into his cup errantly, just enough for me to accidentally sever his head... Because as much as Ana's death is regrettable, Khiva's would be world-ending to say the least.

I should've declined this timely visit before risking a swim, but first-in-lines can't be kings when the king comes, and I needed a damn moment.

"Father, your visit fills me with joy. What news do you bring?" Inching closer, I feel my last strokes grow agonizing. It feels as if my arms are made of concrete, and no amount of blood can ease this weight my body bears. Fay poisoned me; my state cannot be explained in any other way!

I eye the blood dripping from Khiva, shivers gripping me.

"I need to feed," I whisper, struggling to get out of the water. The girl cursed me! My muscles tremble as I push on my arms. My strength is eroding by the day...

"Is this my heir? Vym, you disappoint me."

I fall back into the water, failing to grab Khiva.

"Father, I don't know what you find in him... Look at him, so weak." Anamos chuckles as he crouches and pushes my dying pet into the water.

Though this little act would have usually cost Anamos his arm, I am somewhat grateful he did it.

I hold Khiva in my arms, a firm grip behind his nape. My fangs, I can't control them; my mouth, a bloody mess of disarrayed licks and bites. The venom injections go on as I resist drinking from him. It's grueling.

"Let him die and come join me inside. I have news." A towel hits my face before my father turns on his heels, Anamos and his tails following him as if on a leash.

"I will see you right away, Father," I say, cutting my thumb over my fang. "As soon as I am restored."

Khiva's head lifts, only to fall limply in my palm, his golden strands swirling amongst the red waters.

"Khiva." I shake him softly.

My breathing increases.

"Khiva, wake up." I clamp his cheeks, forcing his mouth to submit, and slitting my wrist this time, I bring it to his lips. "Drink."

I'm not going through this a second time! I'm not!

The whites of his eyes are showing.

I shake him more. "Don't play games with me. Drink!"

A soft stroke licks at my wound, and he returns to me.

"Your father wants to see you." He coughs.

I breathe and chuckle at the same time. "I won't ignore your calls ever again."

"Night swims..." he simpers, the slash at his neck now invisible. "I know not to interrupt you."

"Interrupt me all you want from now on; I will listen." I try lifting him, but I can't, and I cannot feed on Khiva as of now. My father is right on one thing; I'm too weak.

Helping him up the pool steps, I caution, "Go to our room and lock yourself in. Do not make eye contact as you walk by."

I watch him leave and cross the living room, watch Anamos lick his lips before insulting him, varmint ears perked at his moving target. "Look at Vym's little whore. Still standing after all..."

Then I fix my gaze on my father. It's a lethal gaze that I continue to hold as I lift myself out of the water, feeling as though I may faint.

Trying to walk straight to the living room, I grab another towel hanging on the edge of a sunbed as the one I was thrown has now sunk.

"What a great time for vampires..." My father pinches his trousers at the knees and drops himself on my lounger. Lounger, I need to dry clean after each of his visits, the scent he leaves arousing nausea in me like no other. "Orcs and witches are rebelling. Minotaurs grieve bitterly over their community leader. Poor Mordana, she was so affected by it."

Nails dig in my fisted palms, though I stop them before flesh splits. The smell of vampiric iron is one not to neglect. Emotions. Weakened state. There are so many opportunities to be run over with. My father wouldn't miss a single note. He once bit me with a fistful of my sixteen-year-old hair in his grip, arched my neck to the moon, tasted my blood, and read my pulse and adrenaline as he tried to find where my mother went in hiding...

It is already an uncomfortable situation for me, not to mention that self-control is a complex skill that has to be mastered, and I still need to practice. My father's a very challenging test case.

While remaining as detached as I can, I waltz toward the personal bar in the corner of the room where vials of blood await and pour myself a heavy chalice of cold blood, type A Nympheria, the sweetest and quickest to enter my dead bloodstream. And open another vial left in the ambient air for God knows how long, and pour in two cups of stale blood.

His dark, bloodied eyes ensnare mine. "Time has come."

"Time for what?" I say, moving toward these slumps. Lightheadedness leaves me as I take a few sips. For how long, though...

"Brother, come on. Make an educated guess." A corner of my eye slips to Anamos, who knickers, "Fidr's little soldier, Vym! You know, the feisty one." I smile hate at him. I've never met her, but I have had echoes of her ways. "She sent a signal. It's time to rise and shine!" he says, before plopping himself next to my father, the sole of his lace-ups fouling my beautiful ebony coffee table.

A signal! "A signal?" I try not to show my discomfort as I offer them these putrid drinks.

My father takes his glass, sips, and grimaces. "Vym, son... no wonder you're feeling beside yourself. This blood is spoiled."

Another smile spreads across my face, a genuine one as he spits into his cup. "Electricity is out," I add.

My father smiles back at me. "You know what that means, though. The Night Reign has begun. Soon, Fidr will give us clearance to hunt these little weasels. It will be effortless. She took all their magic!"

As a result, Anamos obscenely guffaws.

"So?" Observing them from a reasonable distance, I find their presence unpalatable, making it difficult for me to consume my beverage. "What is the signal you are referring to?" I have a slight idea of what could be implied, and it's too early, Mordana making herself sparse lately!

"Well... My beloved doesn't need to fear death anymore. Her daughter has been found." To this, my father drops his back against the sofa's backrest, exhaling contempt as he twirls the brew he will no longer touch.

Standing still, I contain my twitching arm. The day has finally come... Mordana is nowhere to be found. I called, texted, and called again, searched every room and sent an envoy to search for her, all without success. This is a big issue because now, more than ever, I need her presence.

"I told her that if I turned her into a vampire, she would no longer fear death... I told you that, right? However, even though she has become immortal, she still seeks closure."

My chest heaves uncontrollably. "When was that? If I may ask."

"I sent the entire Blood Wringers to chase down this little fairy about an hour ago. Basically, when I received a call from Fidr's private investigation bureau. It may take a while to catch them, though..."

An hour...

"May I join this night hunt?"

"Of course. If this allows you to feed on something fresher than what we have here... They are apparently flying toward Wolf Island."

"Flying?"

"They're on a dragon, a speedy one." Another hideous laugh detonates out of him. "A dragon!"

I place my glass on the coffee table, staining it as drops ripples out of it. "Please excuse me. I have some hunting to partake in."

"You go, my son. I am honored to see you bring hope and relief to our beloved Queen Fidr. Your sense of duty fills me with joy."

Oh, you have no idea...

I glance at my father's grip on Anamos. The disgusting nature of their relationship makes me sick to my stomach. Yet, there is something terribly satisfying in knowing Anamos gets it all, Ana's unjust death still lingering in the back of my mind.

As I walk to my apartment, my father's voice resounds, "Don't kill Fidr's little minion. She's one of her favorites."

Tsk...

I knock once. The door opens to Khiva, who I grab by the shoulder with haste.

"Khiva, it's time. Remember the plan? Grab the bag of cash under the bed and meet me in Grym Cove. Do not stare directly at Queen Adrienne; just know she will keep you safe."

"My lord, you need to feed."

I inhale, trying to keep my feet in check, a fumble never far away. "And you need to listen."

His goat ears droop at once. "But what about Mordana?"

"Can you see her?" I mock, throwing my frustrated eyes in all corners."Hold on tight, and fly northeast, a straight line for Grym Cove. Understood?"

Khiva's hooves stomp nervously as he nods before racing under the bed.

I throw my towel on the bed and spin on my heels for the vivarium. Rafaela, the gift that finally serves its purpose, is released from her cage. I grab this tiny fighter as she nibbles at my fingers. Mordana always had a thing for those changeling reptiles.

"Whatever happens, do not lose the bag, pet." Khiva's clutching it, trembling like a leaf. I leap forth until a brush of my lips on his turn into a pressing sensation of want and fear. Our eyes converge as I enlace his wrist. In his palm I place Rafaela, who calms instantly. "You can do this."

In a moment that seems to evoke the tenacity of a magnet, I push away from him, pull the drawer open, grab a packet of dried meat kept there for this extraordinary occasion, and slam it into Khiva's chest.

I snarl in dismay as I watch him drop the bag to catch the food. His priorities are frightening...

"My lord, what if you?—"

"Do not worry about me!" I hiss, rushing to my closet. Something sleek, something smooth... leather.

I zip up my pants and glance at his pale self. "You just need to respect the plan." Likewise, I pull up the zip on my boots up to my knees.

Grabbing my crown tossed on the bed, which some may mistake as a vulgar hairpin, I slide it on one side of my hair until the tines nip at the skin behind my ear.

Then, take the Merovan necklace Khiva is holding out to me and slip it on. It's a beautiful chest strap studded with sharp spikes that wrap around my throat, royal symbols that must be with me at all times. Anything necessary to assert my dominance, especially if my father sent the entire Blood Wringers after Fay.

I show my back at Khiva, whose critter is now clambering up his horn, and wait for his fingertips to seal my jewelry's fasteners at my nape and back.

"What if you get killed?" he whispers.

"Oh, thanks Khiva. We do need weapons, indeed." I cross the room and still in front of my dagger display case cabinet.

The window door creaks as I open it with emotion. And as I unhook two black carbon steel bracers, I feel the sudden urge to remind him of the most critical part regarding Rafaela. "Remember. A little bit of meat. A little."

"I'll be seen," he mutters, hyperventilating as he watches me insert my arm into a bracer. "Rafa's going to destroy the place!"

The idiot... I secure the second bracer over my arm, grasp Khiva's neck, and shake him. "We went through this countless times!"

Easy on him…

I blow, sensing my chest about to fragment, and with a lower voice this time, detach my hands from his neck and slant them down his arms. "Use the side window, sneak onto the terrasse, and give the food. At her first bite, I'm counting on you to throw yourself into the void with her. She'll shift into a bigger version of herself and catch you midair."

Taking out two combat knives, I place them inside the sheaths of my bracers, tangs facing forward.

"What if she doesn't!?"

"There is no doubt in my mind that she will. You fed her, you cared for her. She knows you. Be assured, Khiva, that everything will go according to plan." I pinch his chin. "I'll see you in Grym Cove."