2. Talia

CHAPTER 2

Talia

T he effects of Zachariah's power has barely slipped from my skin as I take in my surroundings, to wherever the hell he just wended us.

A half dozen vampires are in the room, falling silent as they all turn toward us.

I quickly scan each of their faces, opening my senses to their powers to assess any danger.

There are three significant threats in the room.

One source of power I sense is like a braided blend of witch and vampire, the combination infinite and intense. A vampire-witch hybrid—holy shit that's a thing? She's a beautiful female with hair the same lilac color as my eyes.

The second source of power is a giant well of cunning and intelligence, but I can't pinpoint who it belongs to.

And the third, of course, is the insurmountable powers radiating from Zachariah, and though I don't believe he's a physical threat to me, he certainly broke my heart.

The hybrid looks me up and down, and I do my best to keep my spine straight even though every instinct is telling me to shift into a defensive stance and face her.

"Cool outfit," she says, shocking the absolute hell out of me.

I glance down at my huntress attire—the warm fighting leathers hugging my legs, the armored corset protecting my front, and my tight leather jacket with the huntress emblem on the back protecting my arms. Certainly not the attire that everyone else is wearing for whatever function Zachariah wended me into. Every vampire here is dressed in their finest gowns or suits, except for Zachariah who is still staring at me open-mouthed in fighting leathers of his own.

I glance past the vampires, scanning the rest of my surroundings. The walls are adorned with gilded art and ancient tapestries with enough illustrations of the royal crest for me to realize Zachariah brought me to the king's residence. The very place I was headed tonight before I picked up on that scent of bloodmad vampires.

"Alek!" Zachariah shouts, making half of the vampires around us flinch. "I need you!"

Zachariah reaches for me again, his powerful hand wrapping around my wrist?—

I jerk away from his touch, hating the way it calls to my blood. I thought I'd successfully buried that need centuries ago.

"Library," a powerful masculine voice says, a vampire materializing right next to me. "Now." There's no room for argument in his voice.

I dip my head slightly, recognizing that other unknown source of power I'd sensed earlier. Naturally, it belongs to the king of the vampires.

The king walks ahead, hastily turning down a hallway and out of sight. The rest of the vampires in the room try incredibly hard to pretend like they aren't watching me and Zachariah, especially when he reaches for me again and I dodge his touch.

"I can walk myself," I snap, heading off in the direction the king went. "And you're lucky you brought me to the exact place I was heading, or I would wend out of here so fast you'd never be able to catch me."

I do my best to present a calm and confident exterior when on the inside I feel absolutely shredded .

Memories I left buried inside the dark recesses of my soul are unleashed with Zachariah's scent, his incredibly annoying good looks, the way he stares at me, panic-stricken and needy like he has the right to be.

Long, moonlit walks, his laughter filling the space between us.

Dancing at court, my heart racing when his fingers grazed the bare skin of my shoulder.

Dreams of a future when his mark appeared on my wrist ? —

Zachariah falls into step beside me, partially leading the way since I have no real orientation of the king's residence.

He's still… him , if not a little more modern looking. Still has that well of power radiating from his very bones, still has those broad shoulders and wise, cunning dark eyes. Still smells earthy like orchids and moss.

Pain lashes through me like a lightning strike at he both familiar and incredibly strange at the same time.

I don't know him anymore and that… hurts .

I do my best to swallow the emotions threatening to choke me as Zachariah leads me into what's clearly the king's study. The room is spacious with massive rows and rows of ancient tomes, the leather bindings well-worn. The king himself is now seated behind a desk in the middle of the room, glancing over some papers strewn there as if to give us some semi-privacy.

"How are you alive?" Zachariah asks before the king has even glanced up at us.

I glare up at him. "How are you awake?"

"What happened to you?" he counters.

"Why do you care?" I fire back.

"Why didn't you call out to me?" he growls.

"Why didn't you show up for our wedding?" The question rips from my lips as the adrenaline rises to a crescendo beneath my skin.

I can't even begin to process the relief I feel at seeing him alive and healthy as that emotion snuggles right up next to betrayal.

My heart breaks all over again.

I didn't know he awoke from stasis.

He made no attempts to reach out to me through a bond that very well may be nonexistent now.

He clearly had other priorities.

Four hundred years of working on my self-worth and confidence dissolves with one look into his dark eyes. I'm unraveling, feeling absolutely dispensable again because he knows our king—our current king—well enough to address him so informally as he did earlier. They have a familiar relationship.

So how long has he been awake?

A decade?

Two?

More?

It doesn't matter.

The female he knew centuries ago is gone.

And I do my best to remind myself of that as I reinforce the walls I've built around my heart.

"Do I need to be here for this?" the king asks.

"Yes!" Zachariah and I both snap, and I break his fiery stare to turn toward my king and bow low at the waist.

"My king," I add respectfully.

The king cocks an eyebrow at me, but nods slightly. "Zachariah, you know I respect your leadership and judgment, but I'd like to know why you wended a perfect stranger into my personal residence."

"Apologies, Alek," Zachariah says, motioning to me. "May I introduce you to?—"

"Talia," I say cutting off Zacharia's formal introduction. "Talia Ashcroft. And despite my forced arrival, I was on my way to you, your Highness."

The king glances curiously at Zachariah, the two of them sharing some silent look that has a trickle of foreign power scraping the back of my neck.

"What for?" the king asks.

"To discuss the major baby bloodmad vampire problem you have on your hands," I explain, not so casually stepping to the side to put more distance between Zachariah and myself. I have to hold myself together, have to keep myself from crumbling. Seeing Z…it's a pain I didn't think I'd ever feel again—a searing, unforgiveable pain that rips at my heart.

I take another step away, sucking a deep breath in an effort to not fall apart.

Despite the vastness of the study and its delightful smell of leather and ancient paper, Zachariah's scent is swarming me, making my baser instincts perk up in a way I simply can't allow.

"I was on a hunt," I continue. "Tracking someone who I believe may be responsible for the creation of so many new vampires. Someone infinitely more powerful than a baby bloodmad, but I got sidetracked when I picked up on the trail that led me to Zachariah. And it's a good thing I did or else he would've been killed." I try to deliver the comment with as much iciness as possible, but my heart clenches at the thought of him dying.

It doesn't matter I no longer bear his mark.

Doesn't matter that it's been centuries since I last saw him.

My soul and his were once almost permanently tied, and the idea of him being harmed is physically revolting to me.

A shudder runs down my spine.

What if I hadn't been there tonight? What would he have done? Why hadn't he used his wealth of power to rid them all at once?

Too many questions race through my mind, making my head spin.

The king stands, coming around his desk as he looks at Zachariah. "You were hunting alone?"

"I wasn't going to bother anyone else. They were enjoying the party. But I'm still dedicated to the mission of finding my brother."

That comment brings me up short, but I keep my mouth shut.

"I was checking out a lead from Mrs. Zorin," he continues. "I was ambushed."

"By infant bloodmads?" the king asks. "They're just running amuck now?" He aims the inquiry at me, but it's Zachariah who answers.

"They seemed newly transitioned," Zachariah says. "They were not properly trained, but their newly inherited strength was enough to overwhelm mine."

I tilt my head at that, knowing very well how much power my once-upon-a-time-mate possesses. And depending on how long he's been awake and who he's been killing or bargaining with, it could be infinitely more. But he's not sharing that with the king. Why?

I mentally recheck my mental shields, internally inspecting to make sure they're completely intact.

Mental shielding is one of the first things we're taught as huntresses, and it's something I've grown very good at over the last few centuries. Even now, I can feel the king's power tapping on those shields and searching for any weaknesses, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't an effort to keep him out, but it is. As a vampire under his rule, normally there'd be nothing I'd deny my king, but mind-sharing is something that takes trust, and the king and I are strangers despite my loyalty to the crown. Luckily, he backs off quick enough that I don't judge him harshly.

The king lets out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. "We need to return to the scene, gather any identification or information we can, and burn the bodies."

"I'll get someone on it," Zachariah answers, taking his dismissal and heading toward the doors.

I move much slower, wondering what the hell I'm expected to do now? I hadn't exactly accounted for running into my ex-mate, especially since I thought he was still deep in stasis.

The fact that he didn't call out to me upon awakening speaks volumes about his priorities, and the old, familiar sting of always coming second to duty slices into me all over again.

I head toward the doors, because it's the only exit, and I absolutely need to get the fuck out of here.

"Talia," the king says my name, and I turn to look at him over my shoulder. "I'd appreciate it if you'd stay here with us. You might have more information we'll need."

I internally cringe, not wanting to stay close to Zachariah for another minute, but I can't say no to the king. "Of course, your Highness."

"Good. Zachariah can show you to one of our spare rooms." He cocks his head. "Ashcroft," he says my surname, almost like an afterthought. "Does that mean you're from the Nottingham Ashcroft line?"

I stiffen at the noble title, my heart clenching. "I used to be."