Chapter 22

Ezekiel steered me down the corridor in the opposite direction from where I’d come in, up a flight of steps and onto a wider hallway, his long stride forcing me to take two steps for each one of his so that I was almost jogging to keep up.

I hitched up my skirts to make it easier. “How did you know I was in trouble?”

“Your hunter bodyguard told me that Matthew had taken you to find me. But Matthew isn’t here tonight.”

“I knew it! But obviously not right away or I wouldn’t have gone with him. He looked like Matthew, until he didn’t.”

“Zafira obviously has a polymorph on staff. The form a polymorph takes is never a perfect replica of the original subject. A close enough look and you can tell. Also look at their eyes. When the light hits them, they tend to glow.”

I’d heard about polymorphs and how rare they were. And there was one here? “Where are we going?”

He smiled thinly. “To make our entrance. I’m sure your bodyguards are getting antsy, despite my firm assurance that I would find you and make sure you were safe.”

“Can you blame them for not trusting you? You did leave me to die when we first met.”

“A woman who can hold a grudge, how novel.” He slowed his pace as we approached a set of double doors. “Are you ready?” He looked down his nose at me and offered me the crook of his arm, and I was assaulted with the urge to stab it.

What the heck?

“It’s not a viper, Miss Lighthart. Take my arm.”

He’d saved my life, but I was under no illusions as to why. As far as he was concerned, I was his property, and someone had messed with me, which meant they’d challenged his authority. He’d done what was required to show them who was in charge. But he wasn’t done making his point. Not yet.

Foreboding danced in my belly. “What are you going to do?”

His smile took on a razor’s edge. “Remind my subjects who their king is.”

The door swung open, and I quickly took his arm, allowing him to lead me onto a balcony that looked down on a high-ceilinged room dripping with chandeliers and filled with opulently dressed vampires. Some wore crimson and gold, like the vampires from the parlor, others copper and gold, and a few stood out in black and silver, lurking like shadows among the vibrance. There were human faces among the throng, easily identified by the warm hue to their skin and relatively softer stature. The ribbons around their necks also helped. Silver, gold, or crimson—collars to denote house affiliation maybe?

The ambient music stopped, and all eyes turned to us. Crap, where were Ordell and Hemlock?

I spotted them by the doors a moment later. It was too far to make out their expressions, but I was pretty sure they were watching me.

Everyone stood still, so many new faces…Oh God, I was in a room filled with predators, on the arm of their king.

“Calm yourself,” Ezekiel said under his breath. “Your heart is beating enticingly fast.”

I exhaled and cleared my mind. I was fine. This was fine.

Below us, a woman dressed in a gown of the deepest crimson detached herself from a group and glided to the center of the room. Vamps stepped aside to make space for her. Her brown skin was smooth and youthful, but her ebony hair was artfully streaked with silver, and her sable eyes held eons of wisdom.

“Welcome to Sangera Mansion,” she said. “The House of Blessed is honored to host your rising this century, my liege.”

This had to be Zafrina Sangera, the head of the House of Blessed.

The corners of Ezekiel’s mouth turned up tightly, not a smile, but more a polite acknowledgment of her words.

“Tonight, you will reunite with familiar faces and be acquainted with new?—”

The doors on the far side of the room flew open, and a male vampire burst inside, carrying Eloise’s dead body.

His gaze zeroed in on Ezekiel. “You monster! You killed her. You killed my daughter.” The vampires from the parlor trailed into the room behind him. “Is this how you repay our allegiance? By taking the life of a fledgling?”

Zafrina pressed her hand to her chest, looking up at Ezekiel. “Did you do this?”

“Yes,” Ezekiel said coolly, offering no further explanation.

Below us, the room swelled with murmurs, the vampires gathering into color-coded groups.

“She spurned your advances,” the male carrying Eloise said. “You were incensed, and so you?—”

Ezekiel’s bark of laughter was like a gunshot. “Me? With that pathetic creature? Is that what the liars hiding in your shadow told you?” The man blinked sharply, suddenly looking uncertain. “These liars, these fledglings, coerced and trapped my companion in the parlor, then attempted to feed off her. I was within my rights to slaughter them all, but considering the occasion, I chose to be magnanimous. I was content to leave with my companion, but your child refused to back down. She attempted to take what was mine and paid the price.”

The sandy-haired fledgling rushed forward, fists balled at his sides. “We were within our rights! The etiquette states we bring companions and share their veins. She’s your companion, and so we should be allowed to?—”

“Enough!” Ezekiel roared. “You do not get to bind me with rules. This is my territory. My kingdom. You are my subjects, and I make the law. Me not you. Do you understand?” Ezekiel’s arm was like steel beneath my hand as waves of power emanated off him to fill the room with lethal vibration. “Bow before your king!”

Around me, vamps dropped into deep bows and stayed that way, their bodies stiff and trembling because they weren’t bowing of their own accord. They were being made to do so by Ezekiel.

If he was this powerful a few days after rising, how powerful would he be in a few weeks, months…By the end of this year?

The muscles beneath my palms flexed, the only sign that he was exerting himself. His profile remained still and impassive, not a twitch.

He released the room with an exhale, and heads bobbed back up. Shock and anger, quickly masked, but in most cases, the emotion I’m sure Ezekiel was aiming to elicit remained on show—awe.

Zafrina was the first to break the awkward silence. “It seems that boundaries were overstepped this night, but justice has been served.” The man holding Eloise’s dead body made a soft choked-up sound. “We mourn your loss, Albert, but let this be a lesson for you to train your fledglings better.”

He clamped his jaw so tight I was surprised when he managed to push words out. “Yes, Mother.” With a final loaded glare at Ezekiel, he spun on his heel and clipped from the room.

Mother? So did that mean the fledglings were Zafrina’s grandchildren? And were they born or made?

“Please, everyone, enjoy the night.” Zafrina waved a hand, and the music started up again. Everyone went back to their goblets and conversation.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Ezekiel said to me.

Did he not see the daggered looks the vamps were throwing him? “I think you’ve pissed a lot of nobles off tonight.”

“Wonderful, isn’t it?”

He was so messed up. “Now what?”

“Now we mingle.”

Ordell and Hemlockjoined us at the base of the steps that led down from the balcony. While Ordell was a primal beast parading as aristocracy, Hemlock was a sleek predator, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and they were mine. I mean, they were both here with me.

Heat stung my cheeks, and Hemlock arched a brow. Ordell mouthed, You okay? But Zafrina glided over before I could reply.

“We’re honored to have you here, Ezekiel.” Her smile, warm and genuine, eased some of the tension knotted at my nape. It must have had a similar effect on Ezekiel because the muscles of his arm relaxed.

She’d called him her liege when announcing him, but now, when they were speaking in private, she called him Ezekiel? Merry’s rundown of the houses came to mind, about Zafrina Sangera being ancient. Were she and Ezekiel friends? Had they ever been lovers? If so, she could be a great resource to cultivate when managing the mercurial king.

“It’s novel to have a female watcher,” she said to me.

“How many watchers have you met?”

She laughed, the sound rich and full. “Too many. But none as lovely as you, and that dress…such intricate workmanship. A beautiful dress for a beautiful woman.” Her gaze slid to Ezekiel. “Don’t you think so, Ezekiel?”

“Undoubtedly,” Ezekiel said flatly.

I’d have been insulted, but considering he’d had me pressed to the wall with his cock rammed up against me less than ten minutes ago, I was merely confused.

“You must give me the name of your seamstress,” Zafrina continued.

I returned her smile. “Agatha’s Emporium in the parade.”

She made an ‘o’ with her mouth. “I must pay her a visit.”

A young male vampire joined us, his expression almost reverent as he took in Ezekiel. He bowed his head. “Your Majesty. It is truly an honor to meet you.”

“Who are you?” Ezekiel asked bluntly.

Zafrina smiled thinly. “This is Christian Constrange, the new leader of the House of Spirit.”

Ezekiel’s brows shot up. “Malcolm stepped down?”

“I’m afraid he took to the sun a decade ago,” Christian said.

“A shame.” Ezekiel sounded like he meant it, and the look on Zafrina’s face told me that she felt the same. Malcolm must be one of the old ones mention in my dossier.

“My father spoke fondly of you,” Christian said. “After his death, we set up Heartsblood, a charity to aid the less fortunate. We operate from the Church of Blood Saints.” His eyes lit up with fervor. “It’s a place to give thanks to the first.”

The first? He was referring to Ezekiel. And the way he was looking at him, as if he was some kind of god, made my skin crawl.

“It would mean so much to the parishioners if you could come and?—”

“No,” Ezekiel said. “I’m no god. Keep your church but remove me from it.”

Christian balked. “But, but I?—”

Ezekiel walked away, taking me with him. Ordell and Hemlock followed a step behind.

I squeezed his arm. “That was rude.”

“Do I look like I give a shit, Miss Lighthart?”

We spent the next half hour mingling with vampires of all ages. Several had humans in tow who were offered to Ezekiel, but the king declined each one. I tried to catch each human’s eye, but they either avoided looking directly at me or seemed dazed.

At one point, Ezekiel handed me over to Ordell and instructed us to stay close as he joined a group of vampires dressed in black. Their voices dropped low as they spoke conspiratorially for a moment.

“House of Shadows,” Ordell said, even though I hadn’t asked.

But I was more interested in the humans standing a little to one side of the group. Two men each sporting a black ribbon around his neck.

“Are they here willingly?”

“I doubt it,” Hemlock said. “Their veins belong to the elite. They go and do as they are told.”

“But they’re well taken care of,” Ordell added. “Fed, clothed, and coddled. The elite are extremely particular about their veins.”

“Crossbreeding them carefully to produce the perfect vintage,” Hemlock added, not bothering to temper his bitter tone.

Like cattle…except, these humans were trussed up in finery and topped with ribbons to identify which house they belonged to.

Several were being fed on—short feedings—tastings that took place in groups where the other vampires chatted amiably.

All these vampires had come from Ezekiel. Been spawned from him somehow, which meant he’d made them, and then they’d birthed or made others. Or wait…had he ever had children?

A gust of cold air rushed over my skin, and conversation dipped as a troop of vampires, dressed all in black, entered the ballroom.

The newcomers approached, vampires with ebony hair threaded with ribbons of silver, and what the heck was Kaster Black doing with them?

The head of Longlier Sangualex division gave no indication that he recognized me. He trailed a few steps behind a stocky vampire with a widow’s peak and a nose that dominated a comfortable face—the leader of this troop, no doubt.

“You finally awake, then, old man?” The leader’s mouth formed a sharkish grin.

Ezekiel laughed, the sound smooth and enticing. “Laudon, it’s good to see you.”

The two embraced, brief but heartfelt, then broke apart to study each other.

“You’ve lost weight,” Laudon said.

“And you’ve put it on,” Ezekiel replied.

Laudon let out a boisterous bark of laughter. “You know me. Never one to turn down a meal.” He patted his belly then turned to his companions. “Ah, meet my youngest, Kaster.” Kaster stepped forward and bowed. “He’s mute,” Laudon said. “But he’s smart as a whip, head of the largest Sangualex department in Dracul territory.”

Ezekiel gave him a once-over. “You said you’d never make a vampire.”

“I said a lot of things,” Laudon said. “But times have changed, and if we are to survive, then we must change with them.”

Ezekiel arched a dark brow. “You’ll come to Branwood for supper soon and tell me all about these changes.”

Laudon’s expression sobered. “Of course.” He glanced over at me. “You’ve taken a vein?” His eyes lit up with interest. “May I?” He reached for me, and Ordell and Hemlock moved to intervene, but Ezekiel beat them to it by grabbing hold of Laudon’s wrist.

The vampire went preternaturally still. “Not sharing?”

Ezekiel smirked. “Do I ever?”

Laudon chuckled softly. “Good point.”

Ezekiel relinquished his grip on the other vampire. “However, Miss Lighthart is my watcher, not a vein.”

“Ah…” Laudon reclaimed his hand, subtly rubbing at his wrist. His gaze flicked to the hunters at my back. “I see.” Something passed across his features, an emotion I failed to decipher because it was gone too quick. “In that case, welcome to Dracul, Miss Lighthart. My name is Laudon Umbren, head of House of Shadows.”

“A pleasure to meet you.” I inclined my head.

He flashed wickedly sharp canines. “Likewise.”

A liveried server appeared sporting a silver tray with a single goblet on it, which he offered to Ezekiel. The vampire king made to wave him away, but Laudon stepped in with a roll of his eyes and plucked the goblet from the tray. “Seeing as neither of us deigned to bring a vein, we may have to settle for a goblet of wine.” He handed it to Ezekiel. “Fetch me one too, boy,” he ordered the server.

Ezekiel took it with a shake of his head and a smile. “Bossy as always.”

“You’re one to talk…Speaking of which. We should talk.”

They walked off, heads together, and we trailed a little behind them.

How much longer were we going to stay? Kaster looked just as pleased to be here as I was. Ordell dropped me a reassuring nod as Hemlock’s attention swept the room.

I sidled closer to the vampire. “Hey, remember me? You owe me a coffee machine.”

He looked down his nose at me with a whisper of a smile and inclined his head.

“You know him?” Ordell asked.

I was about to respond when Ezekiel stepped between us and took my arm. “We should be going. Miss Lighthart has an early start tomorrow.”

Huh?

“So soon?” Laudon sighed. “I should have gotten here earlier. I heard there was some drama.”

Ezekiel’s smile was tight. He looked…off.

“I’ll tell you all about it when you come to supper.” He broke away from the group, taking me with him, and began weaving his way through the crowd, his grip on me tighter than ever.

Something was wrong.

We were almost at the door when two vampires blocked our path—unfamiliar faces moving in with pretty words, eager to speak to their king.

“Move!” Ezekiel barked.

They staggered out of the way as he practically dragged me through the doors and into the foyer.

“Ezekiel, what is it? What’s wrong?” Ordell demanded.

“Get the carriage. Now,” Ezekiel ordered.

Hemlock rushed into the night, and Ordell stepped forward to flank Ezekiel as we hurried after him.

Ezekiel buckled as we went down the steps, and Ordell cursed. “The wine?”

“Yes,” Ezekiel said.

What the… “What about the wine?”

“Poison,” Ordell said.

“But he can’t be killed.”

“There are worse things than death, little silver,” Ezekiel said.

The clatter of hooves signaled the arrival of our carriage, and Ordell and I helped Ezekiel inside just as three vampires I hadn’t seen in the ballroom ran out into the night, rushing toward us.

Yah!Hemlock cried, and we were off.

Ezekiel groaned in pain and clutched his abdomen. His skin was bloodless, lips white as paper, and dark circles had formed beneath his eyes.

Shit, shit, shit. “What’s happening to him?”

“They call it half-life. A cycle of desiccation and pain. They must have added dead man’s blood to the wine.” Ordell pinched Ezekiel’s jaw and studied his face. “He doesn’t have long before he’s trapped like this. He needs human blood.”

“How long will he be trapped?”

“Months. The whole year probably and then…the rest…”

“Why? Why would anyone do this?” But the memory of the dagger eyes, of Albert and his pain, of the hatred beating off the fledglings, swirled in my mind. “Dumb question.”

“Yes. There are plenty of vampires who might want him out of the picture,” Ordell said. “And after what happened tonight, there are plenty of vampires who this could be pinned on. The king has power over all business and enterprise, and someone obviously doesn’t want him interfering.”

Ezekiel’s breath came in shallow gasps. “I’ll kill them,” he groaned. “When I find who…” He snarled, feral and desperate—a sound that made my hackles rise.

We were running out of time. “We’ll get him human blood.”

“In the next ten minutes?” Ordell shook his head. “It’ll take half an hour to get to town and forty minutes to the castle. It’ll be too late.” He watched me, expectant.

Hell no. “You feed him.”

“I can’t. My blood isn’t pure…”

“You’re not human?”

“Not completely…not enough.”

“Why didn’t you…never mind. Not the time.” Shit, shit, shit. That left only one option. Me. I’d been sent here to protect the people from a monster, but also to protect the monster from all the monsters he’d created, and until now I’d wondered why a creature that couldn’t be killed would need to be protected.

This, here, was why.

Someone wanted him desiccated, weakened, and in pain.

What would have happened if we hadn’t been with him to make sure he got away? Would they have taken him and locked him up somewhere?

I couldn’t allow him to be lost. Still, the thought of his fangs in me made me want to puke.

He cried out in pain again.

Oh fuck, his face…Skin pulled tight over his skull like when we’d first met.

Damn it! I tugged my amulet off and handed it to Ordell.

“Shit.” He clenched his teeth, because yes, shit was getting real. “Orina, this will hurt.”

“Yeah, I figured. Just get him off me when he’s had what he needs.”

He nodded tersely.

I took a deep breath and pulled Ezekiel toward me. He had weight to him despite the rapid desiccation. I gripped his jaw, looking into his golden eyes threaded with scarlet.

“Permission,” he growled, his body vibrating with the effort of holding back from devouring me.

My stomach quivered. I closed my eyes. “I give you permission to feed on me.”

He was on me in an instant, hands fisting my hair, pulling my head to one side, and then fire ate at my neck, burning down my throat and into my side.

Primal instinct kicked in, and I fought—clawing and kicking—but his grip was an unbreakable vise.

“Don’t fight,” Ordell said. “You’ll make it worse, Orina, don’t?—”

Crack, I couldn’t breathe.

“NO!” Ordell bellowed. “Enough!”

Warm hands grabbed at my shoulders, but cold arms crushed me harder.

Crack. Crack.

“Ezekiel, stop. Let go, dammit!” Ordell ordered.

But his voice was far away. I was cold now. No pain. Drifting.

Was this death?

Shouldn’t it bother me more?

“Ezekiel, stop! You’re killing her!”

Cold metal kissed my neck, and Ezekiel hissed, releasing me to Ordell.

“Back off!” Ordell ordered. “Orina…Orina, can you hear me? Orina…”

The world winked out.

“Yes, I’ve got her. Go get him out of here.” Hemlock? “Open the damn door! Merry!”

Sharp pain lanced through my torso, fire biting at my throat. Fingers pinched my jaw. “Drink this. Orina, please.” Ice-blue eyes swirling with shadows filled my vision. “That’s it, good girl.” I choked and gagged on the bitter concoction. “Swallow it. That’s right.” He massaged my jaw, fingers gently coaxing me through the pain that gripped and squeezed me.

“Hurts…” Was that paper-dry voice mine?

“I know. I know, kitten. But I’m here. I have you.”

“Hold her still,” Merry said.

Needles of ice dug into my neck, and a scream bubbled up my throat. Darkness gathered at the edges of my senses, but agony refused to set me free. Blood pounded at my temples, lava in my veins. Make it stop. Please make it stop.

“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. Listen to my voice. Focus on my voice,” Hemlock said. A low humming vibration swelled around me, like the rise and ebb of a tide washing over me. He was humming…

The melody wrapped around me, and a gentle warmth trickled through my limbs, bringing numbness in its wake.

“You’re all right.” Merry’s voice was far away. “I’ve got you now. I’ve got you…”

But she was wrong because the shadows crawled closer. They were here. Watching. And they had me.

They had me.