4. Talia

CHAPTER 4

Talia

E xhaustion clings to my bones, but I've gone on plenty of hunts with little sleep before. I can't let a little thing like tossing and turning throughout the day yesterday deter me from my mission.

Because it's the mission that's important, right?

The one I've been on for the past six months.

More important than agonizing over every detail and memory that assaulted my mind while I begged for sleep.

Memories like the way Zachariah's laugh could lighten even the most gloomy of situations. The way it felt when his mating mark appeared on my skin—the profound sense of completion and exhilaration that chased away all previous fears when my father declared the match.

Things were so different all those years ago. Getting his mating mark didn't mean we immediately got to be together in every sense of the mating bond. We were to be wed, a traditional, boisterous ceremony to celebrate fate pairing the two of us together. I'd never known excitement like that, nor had I ever felt such heartbreak when he called it off.

I swallow the tangle of emotions clogging my throat as I slide back into my fighting leathers and armored corset, shoving my arms through my jacket with much more force than necessary.

God help any bloodmad vampire that got in my way tonight. I had a wealth of pent-up energy brewing beneath my skin, my fingers itching for the hilt of my daggers and my blood thirsty for release.

Maybe tonight I'd actually catch my target.

When I'd caught onto the scent of my old acquaintance Conrad months ago, I'd never imagined he would be behind the across-the-globe bloodmad creation. He'd been abrasive centuries ago, especially when I'd denied his courting intentions, stating we were better as friends, but he'd never been violent. Though, we'd lost touch centuries ago, and that amount of time can do strange things to a person.

I grab my satchel, ensuring it holds all the weapons I placed in there the night before. I've been up most of the day, unable to ignore the fact that Zachariah's room is connected to mine, only a wall separating us.

A wall and a few centuries, that is.

It's highly unlikely anyone would've snuck into my room and confiscated my things, but I couldn't be too careful. Especially when the king had a slew of magical beings at his disposal, including a witch-hybrid among them.

All of my weapons intact, I latch the bag and throw it over my shoulder, taking a step outside of my rooms at the first hint of night.

"You're awake," a kind, feminine voice says the moment I open the door.

"Your Highness," I say, immediately recognizing the queen. The small ruby and diamond crown atop her head is a clear indicator, not to mention the regal way she stands outside my room. I bow low at the waist before standing back up.

"Lyric," she says, waving a delicate hand at me. "Though I appreciate your formality, I prefer to be called by my first name."

I give her a soft smile, admiring her ability to play both roles so well. "I heard our king mated with a modern-day woman," I say, shifting the bag on my shoulder. "I'm thrilled to hear the transition went smoothly."

Lyrics smiles. "I don't know about smoothly," she says. "But it was definitely meant to be. And despite being queen for some time, I'm still getting used to the formalities. So, Lyric."

"Talia," I say even though I'm sure Alek filled her in yesterday on who I am and why I'm here.

Lyric eyes the bag on my shoulder. "Going somewhere?"

I nod. "Before Zachariah wended me here without asking, I was on a hunt. I'm still at the king's disposal, should he need me or any information I have, and I will respect his wishes that I stay in this residence, but I do need to continue my hunt.

"Are you coming?" another voice I recognize as the witch-hybrid sounds before the gorgeous woman rounds the corner, eyes falling on Lyric and then me. "I'm starving."

Lyrics smiles at the witch, then motions to me. "I was just about to ask Talia if she could delay her hunt for an hour to eat with us."

"Oh please ," the witch says, eagerness flitting over her features. "I'm dying to get the scoop from you."

I pause, a little thrown by how casual these two are—the vampire queen and the vampire-witch hybrid. As much as my instincts are begging me to go on a hunt, there's no way I can deny my queen a meal request.

"Of course," I say, and both Lyric and the witch grin at me. They loop their arms through mine and lead me through the residence, down elegantly decorated hallways until we reach a small, very informal dining area.

A table sits among the center of a cozy room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking lush gardens outside, white flowers still clinging to life despite autumn's chill.

The smell of cinnamon and berries and brown sugar fill the space, making my mouth water as I eye the spread that sits on the table. There are muffins and pastries and fruits and meats and eggs—all the wonderful, delicious treats human food has to offer.

"I'm Jocelyn, by the way," the witch-hybrid says to me after I've taken my seat across from Lyric, flopping down in a chair to my left at the same time she reaches for a giant muffin and pops a bite into her mouth. She moans around the bite. "These are absolutely divine," she says.

"Talia," I say in response, only reaching for an empty plate after my queen has filled hers. Lyric may say she isn't accustomed to formalities, but they've been ingrained in me over centuries.

"The huntress," Jocelyn says, her eyes widening. "I have to say I'm absolutely fascinated by the history of the huntresses," she continues. "Just like the hunters, there isn't a ton of written information about you out there."

I nod while taking a bite of muffin, sighing. She's right, these are divine. "Well, our superiors have definitely worked hard to keep it that way," I say after swallowing my bite. "Our organization would kind of lose its edge if there were books exploiting all of our practices and purposes."

"I totally get that," Jocelyn says, and Lyric nods from where she's nibbling at her eggs. "But can I ask you some questions anyway?"

I nearly choke on my next bite as a laugh bubbles up inside me. Even though she likely has a damper on it, I can feel the power radiating off of Jocelyn just sitting here. She could force me to tell her anything in the world, and I wouldn't be able to resist, and yet she has the courtesy to ask? It's definitely...disarming.

"Ask away," I say, flicking my fingers toward a crystal decanter filled with orange juice, using my telekinetic powers to draw it toward me, and pour the liquid into my empty glass.

Lyric and Jocelyn watch the scene with curious eyes, but there's no fear in their features.

It's a relief. They're no doubt used to being around powerful creatures with unique abilities, and a little tension eases in my chest.

Normally I stay in human cities, at least lately, since that's where most of my tracking has led me. I've been forced to keep my powers and instincts under lock and key so as to not risk exposing what I am. It's nice not having to hide here.

"The huntresses were formed at the same time as the hunters, correct?" Jocelyn dives right in.

I nod. "We had to train in separate locations back then. It took at least two centuries for the superiors to realize it was a waste of resources to keep us separate simply because of our gender. Those were exhausting times. The hunters and huntresses were practically enemies due to the gatekeeping of information by one group or another. Once we were allowed to combine forces, the rivalry between us ended, and we became formidable allies in our shared quest to ensure bloodmad vampires were kept in check." I sigh. "That's at least what they taught me when I joined the cause."

"And how long have you been a huntress?" Jocelyn asks.

I hesitate, taking another bite to stall my answer.

"Alek said you were heiress to a noble vampire line?—"

"I used to be," I interrupt Lyric, immediately flashing her an apologetic look that she waves off. "That was before," I say, trying to choose my words carefully.

It's clear from what little I've seen that Zachariah's been here long enough to develop relationships, and the last thing I want to do is offend them.

"My family comes from an ancient noble bloodline that's high in the ranks of vampiric royalty. When I was young, I certainly dreamed of carrying on the family duties—creating a family and serving my king in any way possible by joining the royal court. But those dreams shifted when the male I was due to marry decided to…not show up."

My heart clenches, like the tip of a dagger is slowly sinking in inch by inch.

I can almost feel the parchment in my hand, can still see Zachariah's delicate script handwriting as he explained everything in the letter he left for me the night before our wedding.

"Damn," Jocelyn says, leaning back in her chair and shaking her head. "So instead of turning into a whimpering puddle like any normal person would've done, you joined the huntresses and never looked back?" she continues with an approving nod, looking at me with an air of respect that I can't deny feels pretty damn good coming from someone as powerful as her.

"As cool as that sounds," I say. "There were several nights of whimpering and self-pity and a whole lot of self-degradation that I'd rather not remember. Plus, my parents were furious about my lack of will to find another match to carry on the family line. We never saw eye-to-eye, but it got worse after that. But I came to the realization that my life's mission—completing the mating bond with my mate, getting married, and having a family to continue our noble bloodlines—was no longer relevant. I'd always been fascinated with the huntresses, and when he left, so did my previous dreams. I carved out new ones through the pain of rejection, despite my parents objections. And after they passed, it was easier to burn that old life to the ground, spreading the rumor of the noble vampire Talia's death and solely becoming the huntress version of myself. I've never looked back."

"Until last night," Lyric says, her eyes sympathetic.

I visibly swallow and nod. "Last night wasn't my choice. I thought Zachariah was still in stasis with the other hunters. I had no idea I'd find him in that cave when I followed that bloodmad vampire trail."

"Are you wishing you hadn't?" Jocelyn asks, reaching for another pastry.

There's no judgment in her eyes or in her tone. In fact, I'm not getting that from either of them. They both look genuinely curious and equally welcoming, which is something I haven't had in a very long time.

Hunting and tracking and staying on the road constantly doesn't really offer much time to foster feminine friendships, or any friendships for that matter.

"I don't know how to answer that question," I answer honestly. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that he's awake and alive and well ."

"I can't imagine," Lyric says, leaning a little closer over the table as if she might reach across it and clutch my hand.

She doesn't, thankfully. I'd be obligated to allow the comfort, since she's my queen, but I'm not much for physical affection from people I hardly know.

"I know all of this must feel very chaotic for you," Lyric continues. "But I want you to know that you're absolutely welcome here. Not because of your connection to Zachariah, but because of you . You're not only helping my mate by bringing him valuable information, but by unflinchingly joining the quest that we've been on for quite some time now to end this war between us and the Sons of Honor and the traitorous vampires who are working against us. You have friends here, as wild as that may sound since you just arrived last night." She motions to Jocelyn, then returns her focus to me. "Not just us. There are plenty of females here who would gladly sit with you and hear your story."

I shift a bit awkwardly in my seat, emotions storming me, the longing for companionship reaching out and clutching my heart with icy cold fingers.

It's been too long since I had a group of females in my corner. The huntresses have started fading, either by choosing to hang up their jackets and pursue families, or being killed in battle. We aren't as common as we used to be centuries ago, just like the hunters, and where I once used to have no less than four huntresses at my back, I've been flying solo for longer than I can remember.

"I appreciate that," I say, resisting the urge to add my queen to the end of it. I scoot back from the table, standing as Lyric and Jocelyn do the same. "I really do," I continue. "But right now, I can barely wrap my head around my current predicament, let alone invite anyone else to commiserate on it with me. Besides, the mission is what matters."

Jocelyn and Lyric share a look that screams sympathy and pity.

I clutch my weapons bag a little tighter.

"If you'll excuse me," I say, dipping my head to Lyric again. "I'll be on my way."

"But you'll come back?" Lyric asks.

I sigh, wishing I could tell her no . Wishing I could lose myself on the road and bury all of these conflicting emotions along the way.

"I will return," I say. "Because the king expressed the need for me to be here."

Jocelyn smirks at that answer, nodding at me. "Zachariah totally shit the bed on this one."

A laugh, genuine and real and raw, rips from my lips, and it takes an effort to reel it in.

Maybe staying here for a little while won't be so bad after all.

I catch the faintest hint of Conrad's scent, just on the outskirts of lycan territory.

It's the same scent that drew me here in the first place—the one I've been chasing for far too long.

Of course, this could be another infant vampire Conrad created, the lightness of the smell certainly indicates as much, but I can't help the hope building in my chest that my months-long mission might be coming to an end.

If I capture him, I'll be able to deliver him and all the information he must have to the king. He's turned into a cruel and calculative bastard, the atrocities he's recently enacted killing any hopes of bringing him to his senses. The horde of bloodmad vampires storming the territories to the humans with half or a quarter magical blood in their system being murdered in the hopes of transitioning them has his fingerprints all over it.

Not for the first time, I wonder what happened in the years since I'd seen him to turn him into such a malicious creature? Centuries ago, when we'd merely been friends, he'd been an optimist, excited and hopeful for the prospects of the future. He'd dreamed of claiming his seat in the king's royal court—the century's king, anyway. When did those aspirations get twisted out of him?

I keep my footsteps silent, preparing to breach lycan territory again, without permission, damning the consequences?—

"Why are you hunting alone?" Zachariah's voice—though a whisper—might as well be an alarm blaring.

I jolt, whirling around, a dagger already out and at his throat. "Can you be any louder?" I hiss.

Zachariah glances down, eyeing the blade I have at his throat like I might remove it from that look alone.

I don't.

Slowly, gently, Zachariah grips my wrist, tugging the dagger away from his skin. "I whispered," he says in a hushed tone. "And you're avoiding the question."

I take a step away from him, spinning my dagger and sliding it back into the holster on my thigh.

"I've been working alone for centuries," I finally answer. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I hate that I'm curious.

Hate that I'm hopeful.

Hate that I want him to drop to his knees and beg for my forgiveness, professes undying loyalty and love to me?—

"We've been assigned to work together by order of the king," he answers, so matter-of-factly it jerks all the fantasies right out of me.

My shoulders drop. Of course that's why he's here. Of course it has nothing to do with our past and only to do with his duty to our king. To his calling.

"Fuck my life," I mumble under my breath. "Fine. You can tag along, but I'm going to need you to be quiet. You think you can manage that or did the long sleep make you forget how to be an actual hunter?"

It's a cheap dig, but I can't help it. The hurt that he's fostered inside me is slipping out in the form of sharp barbs that spear straight for him.

Zachariah arches a brow at me, his dark eyes trailing along the curves of my face. There's definitely some emotion there, but I don't bother sticking around to puzzle it out. I spin around, prepared to continue my hunt like he isn't following me. Like nothing has changed.

"You're hunting Conrad Gladstone, aren't you?" Zachariah asks, his tone hushed but loud in the silence of the woods that are crisp from the autumn night air.

I whirl around, eyes wide. "How do you know it was him?"

"I have powerful friends," he answers plainly.

"Powerful friends? Not the superiors?"

"No," he answers. "We connected with them briefly when we were awoken, but they have assigned us to be at the king's disposal."

Anger boils in my blood, threatening to explode right out of me.

I take a breath, and blow it out slowly, curling my fingers into fists so I don't reach for a dagger and stab him.

"So you've been awake long enough to form powerful friendships , but you couldn't take two minutes to actually track me down."

It doesn't matter how many times I say it out loud or to myself, the rejection and lack of initiative from this male continues to break me over and over again.

Something like pain flashes over his features, but I'm too angry to give a fuck. He seems to track that attitude and accept it, shifting his weight and puffing out his chest just enough to make me want to punch him.

"Look," he says. "I'm perfectly content to stand out here all night and take the shots I clearly deserve. But from the look of you, nothing is going to deter you from this hunt. So, what will it be, Talia?" he steps closer to me. "You want to hash this out, right here, right now? Let's do it. Or do you want to channel this into a smart play, because I know how to sneak attack Conrad. All you have to do is let me take you home and you track down a dress."

I eye him suspiciously. "If this is a ploy to get me to some party to act as a trophy for you?—"

"Talia," he cuts me off. "Do you really think so little of me? Do you think I would lie to you about something this important?"

My heart sinks to my stomach. "I don't know you anymore," I admit.

Zachariah draws closer, too close, but I can't find willpower to pull away. "You know me better than anyone ever has, Talia. You know me like only a mate can."

"We never completed the bond," I say. "Whatever fate-bound trust we may have had is dead now."

Zachariah flinches like I stuck a dagger in him. "I'm not lying to you," he says so softly I barely hear it.

"Fine," I say motioning for him to lead the way. "Then prove it."