CHAPTER 44 - BLAKE

It was a good fucking question.

What were they doing?

I'd never actually attended an Adoration Rite. But I hadn't wanted to let Pendragon know that, lest she feel even more uncertain about staying where she was.

I knew the rite involved a blightborn girl who would freely give an offering of her body and her blood in front of the congregation–now predominantly made up of my uncle's most loyal followers and the top ranking nobles from each of the four houses.

Afterwards, the girl was promised riches and glory. Her family was well-compensated but she could never return to them. She would spend the rest of her days in the Sanctum, cared for by the votaries of the Bloodmaiden.

At least, that was what I had always thought happened.

Like most of the younger highbloods, we'd only learned about the rite through whispers and rumors. Through overheard bits of information pillaged from our parents and elders.

Now, as I looked down at the blightborn girl slumped over the throne, I knew with certainty that she was dead.

Around the throne, the masked highbloods were rising and pulling their robes back on.

The highblood man stood up, lifting the Bloodmaiden into his arms. Blood still trickled from the fang marks at her throat.

He'd done that. He'd killed her. He'd murdered her for the rite. Was it always this way? Or had something gone horribly wrong?

I was a highblood. I should have known better than to even ask that question.

Limp in his arms, the blightborn girl looked almost peaceful, her pale face framed by the gleam of blood trickling slowly from the puncture marks on her neck.

The crowd of masked highbloods parted as the man walked between them, towards the silver bowl in the center of the courtyard.

Without a word, he reached up with one hand and pulled down the long silver chains that dangled from the ceiling. The links clinked softly as he began to wrap them around the girl's ankles. Other masked onlookers stepped forward. Together they helped him pull the chains taut, then hoist her body up into the air.

The blightborn girl's body swung gently above the silver bowl.

A soft pattering sound broke the silence as blood from her throat began to drip into the bowl below.

I stood perfectly still beside Pendragon, my hand still frozen at her waist, staring down at the silver bowl as the blood pooled.

Slowly, the basin began to glow with light.

The energy radiating from it was palpable. Humming through the courtyard like a low and steady pulse.

I realized what must be happening. The blood was powering some sort of enchantment. A powerful one.

Then it clicked into place.

The girl was fuel.

The glow around the bowl grew stronger, illuminating the faces of the masked highbloods standing around it.

My jaw tightened as I understood. The coercive magic that kept the blightborn compliant, relatively docile. This was how it was achieved.

There was a sickening twist in my gut as I glanced down at Pendragon. She was frozen, her face pale, her expression a mix of shock and horror.

My hand tightened instinctively on her waist and she jerked her head up.

I saw it then. The look of complete betrayal.

She thought I knew . She thought I'd purposely made her stay to watch...this. A girl's life force being drained away to fuel a magic that controlled thousands of innocent lives.

I nearly laughed. Then I caught myself. There was nothing funny about the look in her eyes.

She yanked out of my grasp and sprinted away from me.

I glanced down at the courtyard below before following, praying no one would spot us. If I'd thought letting her stay was risky before, now I knew things would turn deadly in a heartbeat if we were caught.

She was moving fast, heading back to the panel that led to the secret staircase, but my vampire speed made it easy to catch up.

I closed the gap between us, stepping in front of her.

Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her a little.

"Pendragon, stop," I hissed, my grip tightening as she tried to pull away.

Her eyes were wild with anger.

"Just calm down." The words came out rougher than I'd intended.

"Calm down? After what I just saw?" She yanked herself free again, stepping back as if my touch burned her. "How dare you tell me to calm down after you stood there and let me watch that... that horror."

"I didn't know," I blurted out. "I didn't know she was going to die. You have to believe me."

"Oh, you knew." Her voice was trembling with rage. "You knew exactly what was going to happen. I may have been an intruder but you were an invited guest. You were supposed to be down there, with them, weren't you?"

I struggled to keep my composure. "Both things can be true. I'm telling you the truth."

She gave a bitter laugh. But I saw there were tears in her eyes. "You knew she'd be sacrificed. You had to have known. You know who I believe didn't know?" She paused. "Regan."

I stared at her. "You think Regan would have actually cared? You think she would have stopped them?"

She shook her head slowly. "No. I think you highbloods all keep secrets from one another. But you–a Drakharrow–you're in on the worst secrets of all. You're sick, Blake. You're a monster."

"I didn't know," I tried to say again.

"Stop lying," she shouted.

Her voice was too loud.

I jerked into action before I could stop myself, darting forward to grab her. In an instant I had her tossed over my shoulder.

In another second, the panel had opened and shut. We were in the stairwell. I flew down the stairs with her struggling in my arms, beating at my back with her fists.

Only when we were far enough inside the passage did I finally put her down. Then I reached into a recess in the wall and pulled out the lamp I had hidden there.

As I lit it, she slapped me full across the face.

I grimaced but made no move to retaliate.

I watched as the tears fell from her eyes.

"You knew," she said quietly. "The bowl. The chains. What else would they have been for?"

My heart thundered in my chest. "It wasn't supposed to happen like that. The bowl is always there. Not the chains. I knew they'd take some of her blood. But she was supposed to be willing."

"Oh, she was willing all right." Pendragon's voice dripped with irony. "So willing she fell for your highblood bullshit, hook, line and sinker. That's the only part of it that..." She trailed off, shaking her head.

I felt a drop of water hit my face. One of her tears.

"She didn't suffer," I said softly. "If that's what you meant. I don't think she even knew it was happening."

She sniffled. "It doesn't make it any better."

"I know."

"What was it for? What the hell was it for? Why did they kill her?" She stepped closer, her face twisted with disdain. "Tell me the truth for once in your life."

My throat tightened as I struggled with what to share. The weight of the lie I was about to tell pressing down on me. But how could I possibly tell her the truth?

I hesitated, my voice caught in my throat.

"Tell me!" Pendragon's voice cracked, her fury showing through. She shoved me hard in the chest, pushing me backwards. "What was all that blood for?"

My jaw clenched. "Magic. Some sort of a spell."

"For what? What were they doing?" she persisted.

I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. "I don't know. They didn't tell me. They didn't even tell me she was going to die. I guess tonight was supposed to be my... initiation. If I'd shown up."

Pendragon covered her mouth. "Kage."

Even now, I felt rage rising at the sound of his name on her lips. "What about him?"

"He's a house leader, too. Was he there?" she demanded. "Wearing one of those masks?"

I shook my head wearily. "I have no idea. He might have been. But it wasn't mandatory to attend. It's supposed to be a privilege. They knew we had the ball tonight. Maybe Kage stayed at Bloodwing." I wondered if Catherine Mortis or Lysander Oprhos had been in the Sanctum.

"A privilege," she said with sarcasm. "Right. What a wonderful fucking privilege. As if you aren't all privileged enough. So what privilege was the spell for this time? What sick tradition? You already think you own us. You sacrifice blightborns as if we're worthless. You already control this entire cursed kingdom..."

Her eyes widened, horror dawning in them.

I stayed silent.

"Oh, my gods," she breathed, taking a step back as if I'd struck her. "That's what this is all about, isn't it? The spell. It's like thrallweave. It's to control the blightborn in the city. To keep them compliant."

My stomach dropped, the truth hanging in the air between us, thick and oppressive.

Her voice broke. "How could you? How can you be a part of this? Why do you hate us so much?"

My throat tightened as I saw her pain. I stepped towards her, desperate to comfort her somehow.

"Stay back," she whispered. "Stay away from me. Don't you dare fucking touch me."

I swallowed. "I didn't choose this. None of this is what I wanted. I was born a highblood." I took a deep breath. "Some highbloods murder blightborn to feed, yes. You probably figured that out already. But it's never supposed to happen at Bloodwing. And I...do not. I swear that to you, Pendragon."

"Why?" she challenged me. "Why not kill us for your food? Why limit yourself? Why hold back?"

"Because the idea sickens me," I burst out. "To take a life like that. For that reason. Not to protect myself or to protect..." I'd almost said "to protect you." "Or to protect another. Not in self-defense but simply out of willful indulgence. I hate the idea of it. And so did my father. He tried to change things."

"And then he died," she said simply.

I nodded tightly. ‘Yes."

"So why don't you do something about it?" she said, her voice deceptively soft. "You stand by and let these people die. You let them murder that girl. You could stop it, but you don't."

My heart twisted. "You think I could have stopped that, even if I'd known? Gone up against that many older highbloods? They would have killed me just like they did her."

"No way. You're a Drakharrow," she spat. "A fucking prince of the Blessed Blood. Your uncle is the most powerful vampire lord in Sangratha."

"None of that would have mattered to them," I said, trying to control my frustration. "You think my uncle would try to save me? He was down there with them. Wearing one of those masks. Fuck, he might have been the man on the throne for all I know."

For a second she froze. Then a look of complete revulsion came over her face.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she muttered, turning away.

I grabbed her arm, then quickly released it as I saw the look on her face. "Look, I know all you want to do is run away but you need to listen to me."

"I don't have to listen to a single damn thing you say," she snapped.

"Yes," I snarled. "You do. If you want to live, you do. And if you try to run, I will stop you. So you will stay and you will listen. Don't make me touch you again."

I could practically see her gnashing her teeth. If she'd had fangs of her own, she'd have ripped my throat out.

"Fine," she finally spat. "Speak."

I took a deep breath. "You can't tell anyone about this. None of it. Not what you saw, not what you've learned. If you say anything, you will be killed. Do you understand? They'll kill you. And not only you."

Her face was pale but her eyes were full of fire. "Really, Blake? You're trying to scare me into silence?"

"I'm trying to make you understand how serious this is," I growled, hoping the desperation would be evident in my voice. "You think I want to threaten you? You think I enjoy all of this? What I'm telling you is true. You can't say anything. Not a word. Not to your friend Florence. Not to that dwarf you hang around with. No one. If you do, they'll be killed–right along with you."

Her lips parted slightly. "Florence..."

I nodded, my voice softening slightly. "Yes, Florence. If you care about her. About any of your friends, you'll keep quiet."

I felt like a complete and utter asshole. But what else could I do?

For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

I watched her mind race as she clenched and unclenched her fists at her side. I understood. Her world had just unraveled at the seams. And now there I was, trying to sew things back together with lies and guilt.

"Fine," she finally whispered. "I won't say anything."

I exhaled. "Thank you." I could feel the tension in my shoulders loosen a little.

I gestured ahead of us in the direction of Bloodwing. "Let me go first. My night vision is better."

I stepped carefully around her and started walking.

A few moments later, I could hear her begin to follow. She kept her distance. I held the lantern high enough that she'd be able to see the path.

The night hadn't turned out quite the way I'd hoped it would.

Now Pendragon hated me even more than she had before.

But not as much as I hated myself.