Chapter 11

RED

I spend some time in the gardens, but it isn't the same as truly being free. The bond is like a splinter, an ever-present niggling. An irritation I can't quite reach to scratch.

What's worse is Octavia has sent a vampire guard to watch over me. I sense his presence. He's kept to the shadows and given me as much space as he can, but it's obvious enough that I raise my hand in greeting. He nods in return, but the damage is done.

I stumble upon the castle bar and find it full of people drinking. Nobles cluster in groups, and the odd hunter stands or lounges, too. Everyone's gathering for the awarding ceremony for the amulet challenge, I suspect. I've no idea how this is going to go because Octavia and I haven't claimed the win. We won't be, either. It's not something we've outwardly discussed, but that's exactly why I've come to find her. We need to talk before we walk in there to an ambush.

Gabriel has his feet curled under him, a book on his lap and another open in his hand. Keir scrawls in a notebook quietly next to him. Lincoln sits opposite them chatting to Talulla; he smiles at me, but it doesn't meet his eyes. I'm not sure when we fell out. It's like the last couple of weeks have driven a wedge between us that neither of us asked for but nor do we know how to get rid of it.

There was a time when I'd walk into a room and he'd jump out of his seat and ruffle my hair, and we'd scheme our next joint training session or night out or prank on the Academy kids. Now he stays rigid in his seat. His eyes dart to Dahlia like he's seeking reassurance. What's happened to you, Lincoln?

I follow his gaze and spot Dahlia with Xavier and Octavia at the bar, laughing and drinking together. They're such an odd family. To loathe each other with such contempt one moment and then be laughing and slapping each other on the back the next.

"Red, darling," Xavier says, clearly a little inebriated. He opens his arms to me, and I outright frown at him.

"How much has he had?" I mouth to Dahlia.

"Too much." She smirks.

"What happened to him?"

Octavia opens her mouth and then shrugs. "Found him like this."

"My fault," Dahlia says. "Consoling each other."

"More," Xavier says, throwing his arms up and at the barman.

"Why the hell not?" Dahlia says and slaps Xavier on the back. He pitches forward violently.

"Gods, Dah, go easy on me. You forget how strong you are."

"Stop being a pussy and neck this," she says and hands shots around. Octavia and I politely decline. We don't have time for this. I need to clarify the story with Octavia before we walk in and screw everything up.

"We need to talk. Somewhere private," I say.

She nods and leaves Xavier and Dahlia at the bar. We find a small, secluded room somewhere on the floor above the main ballroom.

"What's wrong?"

"What's our story? What are we saying when we go in there? They're expecting a winner to be announced and we can't… You've made that perfectly clear with your actions."

Octavia rubs at her forehead. "Are you going to make everything an argument?"

"That depends on whether you're going to insist on taking my memories away repeatedly."

"It was a one-time thing." She practically growls the words.

"Was it? So you've forgotten the tunnels, and the fact you told me there were other times? Like the ones you're refusing to give back? Ironic." I snort.

"Mother of Blood, give me patience. You have no idea what you're talking about, Red. Why can't you trust me that I'm doing this for both of us?"

"Trust you? TRUST YOU?"

She snaps. "This isn't getting us anywhere. We are going to sacrifice the round. We'll still be in second place, I hope. And then everything relies on the next round. As long as we don't fuck up the next trial, we will be fine. It's a lot of pressure. But we'll win the next one and pick up the points we need."

"And what if we're not in second place? What if we don't win the next trial?"

Her face hardens. "We have to. Everything relies on the next trial, Red. To protect you, we sacrifice this round, but the next one is vital."

I shake my head. "The risk is too great. What if Cordelia takes points away from us as a punishment for not giving her a winner? I need that cure for Amelia. I have to win."

"I need to win as much as you do, or I'm never going to belong in this city. You think I don't want this just as much as you? I already have plans drawn up for how I'm going to shape Sangui City. There's so much I can do. I can bring equality, peace, stop the constant civil fighting between hunters and vampires. I can make those on the periphery feel wanted."

I take her hand. "Then we claim the win we deserve and put ourselves in the lead."

She flings her hand out of mine. "WE CAN'T. Don't you get it? This whole thing is about finding the fucking dhampir. Finding you, for fuck's sake."

"What if it's not me?"

She glares at me.

"Okay, fine. But what if there's a way to give it to one of the others? What if I can get rid of it?"

She shakes her head. "You might not want this responsibility, but it is yours. And you're going to have to face that reality if you want to get through this. But that's why I'm trying to buy you time. If we give up your identity now before you've fully transitioned into this new dhampir, before we know what you're capable of and what it really means, all we're doing is putting you in danger."

"Danger? You do realise I'm a hunter? I am more than capable of keeping myself safe?"

"Who had to run into the sun, pull you into their house and feed you half their blood to save your life?"

"Wow, Octavia. Low blow," I snarl.

She huffs at me and starts pacing around the little room we're in.

"We should never have bonded," I say before I can stop myself.

She stops dead. Turns to me. "Don't say that. That is the second time you've expressed regret, and each time it's like a knife wound." She pokes her chest.

I snort. "Why? It's the fucking truth. Oh, and by the way. The reason you can't compel me anymore is because of the bond. A piece of your soul is attached to mine. So I suppose that's one good thing to come out of this. I'm no longer subject to your whims anymore. You can't control me the way you do everyone else."

"It's not about control, Red. I was trying to protect you."

"I can protect myself. It wasn't your fucking decision to make."

"GODS," she shouts. I don't think I've ever seen her truly lose her temper.

I shake my head. "What are you hiding from me?"

"Nothing you want to know. Be careful what secrets you uncover, Red. Not all of them are truths you want to hear."

"Don't you get it? If you don't tell me, we're never going to fix this."

She smiles, soft. But it never reaches her eyes. And instead of resolving the fucking issue, she changes the subject.

"We need to come up with an item we tried to get into the amulet. Otherwise, when everyone else tells them the thing they tested, we're going to be screwed. Cordelia is going to be pissed that there's no winner."

Irritation flares in my gut, but she's right. This is why I dragged her from the bar. So I comply, and we brainstorm ideas for items that seem logical and believable enough we would have thought to test them. We settle on the most plausible thing we can think of.

* * *

O ne of Cordelia's staff appears in the doorway. "You're required," she says.

We follow her down several hallways, tracing our steps back the way we came, when I stop suddenly. Outside the castle window is a mob of people.

"What's going on?" I ask.

The staff member glances at the floor. "Don't worry, miss. Lady St Clair is on top of the protesters. They're anti-cure folks. But they caught word of the awards ceremony this evening. There are vampires out there patrolling and monitoring it, and the Chief sent a few hunters out too."

"I see," I say and glance back outside. There's an uncomfortable number of placards and signs being brandished with words like:

Fuck the dhampir.

No dhampir, no cure.

I swallow hard and try to ignore the chills nestling inside my stomach.

Octavia gives me a pinched, I-told-you-so look.

We traipse after the staff member until we re-enter the ballroom that is becoming increasingly familiar to me. Though each time it looks a little different.

Today, the floor is chequered black and white flagstone tiles. It's beautiful and ornate. Some areas have larger tile patterns and others have smaller tiles. It makes for an almost hypnotic atmosphere, a sort of illusion and warping of time and space and reality, and I see now that's all this is. One giant game. And I'm no longer sure if we're the players or being played.

Above us hang two enormous crystal chandeliers. The candles standing in a ring are black, but the wax dripping down their stems is red and looks like blood drops.

Gabriel, Sadie and Dahlia sit at a table near the front, drinking goblets of blood and talking in hushed tones.

My stomach coils. Hunger gnaws at my insides. I hate that I can't recognise which hunger I have anymore.

A heavy hand lands on my shoulder. I whirl around.

"Chief, hey," I say.

"Hello, Red. Can I have a moment?" she asks.

"Sure." I follow her out towards a balcony on the other side of the ballroom. She opens the door, and we slip into the night.

"What's up?" I ask.

"I just wondered whether you'd unearthed anything yet? It's been a few days since our talk at the Academy, and I wanted to know how your progress was going digging up any dirt?"

I shrug. "Honestly, the trials have taken up so much of our time and energy, I haven't had a chance to snoop. But anything I have found hasn't been worthy of bringing to you."

"Everything is worthy, Red."

I don't think the Chief needs to know I've mostly spent my spare time dosing and fucking.

"We're all trying to uncover who's behind the attacks."

"I thought that was resolved with the execution at the last awards ceremony."

I narrow my eyes at her. "There was another attempt. And he didn't confess to the first one. So there's something else at play."

The Chief stiffens and nods. "Good work. I told you everything was relevant. Any sign of which of you hunters is the dhampir yet?"

I hesitate, wondering if now is the time to confess, but we're surrounded by vampires.

She continues before I decide.

"We need to know so we can put extra protection in place around them."

There's a knock at the window before I can answer.

Amelia's head bobs in the window, waving maniacally at me.

"I should see what's wrong with her," I say to the Chief. "If anything comes up, I'll let you know."

I leave the Chief and head inside, dragging Amelia back towards the food table.

"Hey," Amelia says.

"Hey yourself," I say.

"Can I have a word?" she asks.

I glare at her. "Well, you just interrupted another conversation I am now not having, so, yeah, you have my attention. What's up?"

I glance at the balcony and then the stage. It doesn't look like they're about to start yet. I pluck a chicken leg off the food table and gnaw on it. Predictably, it doesn't hit the right spot. I find Octavia as I leave the room, and she narrows her eyes at me like she can tell there's an issue. I'm not sure if I love the bond for this connection or hate that I can't keep anything to myself.

"What's up?" I say to Amelia as I take another bite of chicken.

She looks down, her feet all shifty. "I, umm… I want you to know that I don't blame you."

"Blame me? For what?" I say, chowing down and tearing more chunks of chicken off the leg bone.

Her neck contorts. It's like she wants to say something and can't.

"You alright?"

"Fucksake. Yes. Look. I wanted to tell you that I don't blame you for Mum and Dad leaving us. Okay? You were late the night she died, and I know you've worried over the years that if you'd got there sooner, you could have stopped it. But you couldn't, okay?"

My chest tightens, and my eyes sting. This isn't the time to discuss this. I try to find words, but my throat is thick with memories. How does she know this? We've never really spoken about that night. Not like this. I was young, but old enough to be an excuse for Mother to leave work. I was meant to get her from the club she was working at because she'd donated too many times already that week. The worst bit is, I don't even remember why I was late now. And that, more than anything, haunts me. It's my fault she died, I know that, and so does Amelia.

I frown at her. "Really odd time to bring this up," I say, finally finding words.

She flaps her hands at me. "Yeah, well. It's been on my mind since the ni?—"

Her voice cuts off and her eyes nearly pop out of her head.

"You are being very weird tonight. Is everything okay?"

Her cheeks turn red, and I'm not sure if she's livid or embarrassed or what.

Someone calls the room to attention.

"We need to go in," I say and rub her arm before depositing the now clean chicken bone in a bin and heading into the ballroom. I edge around the outside of the room to where the buffet is and take more chicken and potatoes. Then I take a seat on one of the rounded ballroom tables. They're as grand as the rest of the room, with flowers bending and bleeding like the chandeliers. Servers place wine on the table. It's a deep red and looks far too close to the colour of blood for my liking. Next, they wheel in barrels and caskets of blood. From what I can see, a variety of blood types all flavoured with different emotions—jealousy, fear, joy—are deposited on the table.

I inhale the chicken and potatoes, but when I'm done, I am struck with that increasingly familiar sensation: physically full, yet hungry. It's like the addiction has shifted. It used to be more of a craving. Like when you've had a delicious Sunday roast but you're still craving sugar at the end. Except it wasn't sugar I was craving. Now it's more like I'm ravenous, starved even.

Octavia comes and sits beside me now I'm finished eating.

"You okay?" she says.

It's childish, but I bite at her. "Oh, you care now, do you?"

"Is this how it's going to be?" She sighs.

"Until you give me my memories back, yes."

She shakes her head at me. "You don't know what you're asking."

"Don't patronise me. I want what's already mine."

The ballroom fills fast. Hunters grab plates of food, and vampires tend to the metal casks and barrels of blood. One vampire turns on the faucet and fills their goblet. Beneath the barrel of that cask in particular is a low fire, more embers than anything, but it keeps the cask and the blood inside at body temperature, I suspect.

Octavia draws her own goblet to her mouth, and I twitch.

"What?" she says and takes a sip.

"Is that off?" I ask.

"The blood?" She frowns and looks at the goblet.

"No? Why?"

"It stinks. It's so strong."

"Smells fine to me." She downs the rest of it, saving me from having to smell it.

"Wait, are you thirsty already?" she says.

My eyes skirt the crowd to make sure no one is listening or understanding the context, and then I nod because, yes, I really am and now is not a good time for that. Her eyes widen, but before we can discuss it, the Chief and Cordelia enter the room side by side. They walk so close together that if you hadn't been told their history of hatred, you'd think they were firm friends. Everyone grows quiet. Xavier sits with us alongside Talulla. Amelia is at another table, a couple of rows in front. Lincoln and Dahlia are at the front, near the stage. Gabriel and Keir are on the same table as Lincoln, though Gabriel doesn't seem interested in anything other than the book he's flicking through.

Octavia's hand slides under the table and inches over my thigh and between my legs. The long tablecloth hides her arm from view as she grins at me, her eyes glimmering under the chandelier light.

Acutely aware that Xavier is mere inches away, I mouth the words, "We are not doing this here. And definitely not now." I give her the most potent "What the fuck are you doing" stare I can muster. But my skin has already broken out in goosebumps.

She grins, her eyes rolling over my arms.

"Octavia," I growl under my breath.

"Still pissed with me?" she says.

I nod.

"Then I will spend eternity making it up to you." She slides her nail up my crotch, making a small incision in my trousers.

Mother of Blood, I should stop her. I really should. I hate her for what she's done. And yet, this isn't even the bond. It's me. She's like a drug and I am already an addict. She's hurt me, and yet I come back for more because every time she touches me, I melt. I want to feel her, fuck her, come on her fingers.

My head might be furious, but my heart doesn't want to be away from her.

"Orgasms can't right a wrong," I mouth.

"Maybe not, but they don't hurt either."

I have no arguments left.

My thighs inch out, stretching the hole in my trousers. I inwardly cuss myself for being a traitor to myself.

She slides a finger up my pussy and finds my clit, and I jerk upwards as she hits the spot.

"Everything alright?" Xavier says.

I nod. But keep my mouth firmly closed. He turns back to face the stage.

"Not a sound," Octavia mouths at me in silence.

"Good evening, vampires, nobles, hunters, friends, family, humans," Cordelia says.

The Chief steps into the middle of the stage next to her. I will never get over the sight of them allied. It makes me wonder if Octavia is right. If there is potential in her dream of unifying the city under one rule. One welcoming city for everyone, no matter their race or species or beliefs. One city where she and I and everyone else would belong.

The Chief takes over. "It is our great pleasure to announce the end of the second trial, the amulet trial." Her hands open and rise in the air, gesturing to the amulet hovering above the stage.

She glances at Cordelia to continue. "As you all remember from the opening ceremony, each team had to pick the most beautiful item in the city and present it to the amulet. The amulet would accept only the most beautiful item and seal it inside."

Octavia's finger slides down my increasingly wet slit. Fuck her. How dare she make me this wet. How dare she know exactly how to fuck me in the way I want and need.

The Chief lowers her hands, and the amulet floats down through the air to hover above the lectern. Cordelia grasps it and turns to the audience.

Octavia's finger circles my entrance. My breathing increases. Xavier's gaze snaps to Octavia. He must be able to smell my excitement.

He raises his brows at her and then mouths, "Really?"

"What?" She shrugs.

My cheeks flame hot with shame and excitement because he knows exactly what we're doing. My pussy throbs. I should note that neither of them acknowledges me in this conversation. In fact, Octavia leans forward to rest her other elbow on the table and her chin in her hand like I don't even exist. Fuck. The fact she's ignoring me while she pushes her finger inside my pussy drives me fucking wild. I have to swallow down the yelp of excitement.

"This. Doesn't. Mean. Anything." I pant as quietly as I can.

"I know," she whispers.

Cordelia finishes examining the amulet and turns back to the audience. "I can confirm that the amulet has chosen one of the offerings. It has sealed an item inside of its protective casing."

The audience draws in a collective gasp and then a round of oohs and ahhs follow. It allows me a moment to pant audibly and for it to sound like everyone else. Which promptly makes Octavia slide another finger inside me.

Fuck. Me.

She moves agonisingly slow, her fingers drawing in and out of my slickness. The hole in my trousers is only small, so she doesn't have a lot of room to manoeuvre, but that doesn't seem to stop her.

"Would the winners of this round please now step forward," the Chief says.

There's a shuffling of movement as the audience full of humans, hunters and vampires alike all glance around to search for who will stand up and claim their prize.

There's a couple of muffled coughs, and the temperature in the room rises—and not just because Octavia is fucking me under the table.

"Come now," Cordelia says, a slight hitch in pitch in her voice. "Present yourselves."

No one moves and the room descends into silence, no one even reaches for a drink glass. I grit my teeth and clench down on Octavia's fingers and prevent her from moving. There's so little sound and I am so fucking wet that everyone will hear what we're doing.

She curls her fingers until she finds my G-spot.

Oh gods.

She doesn't need to move in and out. She curls her finger and rubs over that glorious spot that has heat flushing my cheeks and me struggling to control my breathing and sit still.

"We have other things to be doing this evening. Children?" Cordelia says.

"Hunters?" the Chief calls.

But still, there's nothing. No movement, no sound, no one claims the win. It's a mutiny against the process, against the trials. This is not how she expected it to go. It wasn't in her plan—well, mine either.

The Chief's expression changes, shifting and morphing. The lines of her porcelain face harden, her expression narrows, a seething tremor rumbles through her eyes. Someone is going to suffer as a result of our keeping the win a secret.

"What is going on?" Cordelia snaps. "Come forward at once."

The room breaks out into murmurs and the chatter of growing confusion. I release Octavia's fingers, and she continues fucking me, harder, faster now. I grip the table with one hand and try to keep my face as neutral as I can.

But I'm so close. I'm going to spill over. She thrusts harder. Shifts her arm position to keep her body motionless and only the feverish movements of her wrist and fingers under the table would give us away.

My pussy clenches and relaxes as I climb higher.

Xavier shifts in his seat, clearly aware of exactly what is going on. Octavia looks at me, stares me right in the eye and mouths, "Do you want to come?"

I nod feverishly. My nipples are so hard against the fabric of my sports bra, every nod of my head ignites a tiny sizzle of pleasure that goes straight to my pussy.

"Eyes on me," she whispers.

Xavier turns around, raises an eyebrow at the pair of us as Octavia breathes, "Come for me."

I do, my mouth falls open, my pussy tightens around her and because I can't draw attention to myself, the orgasm races deep, rushes around my body and washes through my entire system.

Slowly, Octavia pulls her fingers out of my cunt, and I have to take a shuddered breath in order to calm myself down. My cheeks are rosy as heat crawls up my neck.

Xavier shakes his head at the pair of us, his nose pinching.

"What?" Octavia says and then smiles at me as she slides the fingers she buried inside me into her mouth. She pushes them all the way into her mouth and sucks them clean. The sight of it nearly makes me come again.

"Lesbians," Xavier huffs, looking disgusted and amused all at once.

"This is unacceptable," Cordelia says, slapping the lectern in frustration. "Children. On stage immediately."

"Hunters. You too," the Chief says and touches Cordelia's lower back, guiding her away from the lectern. My eyes narrow. Octavia catches sight of the movement too. Xavier turns to us, a deep frown running through his brow. An odd expression for a man whose porcelain features rarely crack.

"We should talk about this later. Something is going on. Mother was too quick to anger when she executed that vampire for the carriage attack," she whispers.

Xavier and I nod.

Octavia slides her chair back and I join her, grateful she didn't make too much of a cut in my trousers' crotch. I make a minor adjustment and walk with my legs close together up towards the stage.

We meet everyone on stage and stand in an awkward cluster of bodies. Cordelia guides Sadie to the front.

"Sadie," Cordelia says. "What did you try?"

"Blood. I took it from the Church of Blood," she signs.

"Gabriel? Keir?" the Chief asks, encouraging them to come forward.

"The most prized possession in the city, a book. The oldest one in our possession, it's said to have segments written by the Mother of Blood herself," Keir says.

"I see," Cordelia says. "And neither of you had any success?"

"The amulet refused to change size for us," Gabriel says.

"It spat the blood out," Sadie signs.

Cordelia grows increasingly irritated. Loose strands of her hair fluff out, making her seem harried and wild.

"Xavier, what about you?" the Chief says.

He shrugs, "I tried to give it the memory of my turning. I am the most beautiful vampire in the city. I thought for sure it would acknowledge me."

His words are a little slurred, like he's been drinking for hours. But he puts just enough snark and arrogance in his tone that Cordelia outright rolls her eyes at him.

"Fine. That leaves Red and Octavia. What did you two try?"

My mouth runs dry.