2. I Won’t Let You Down

CHAPTER 2

I Won't Let You Down

T he following day, before sundown, Brynleigh perched on the edge of her bed. She wore a black robe, her hair freshly dried from her afternoon shower.

Jelisette stood inside the walk-in closet wearing a sweater that seemed incongruous with the summer heat. Propping her hands on her hips, she tapped her foot on the floor. "Red or black?"

It may have been posed as a question, but Brynleigh knew Jelisette didn't want any answers.

Rule number seven: your Maker always knows best.

Instead, Brynleigh sipped her blood wine, relishing the dry taste as she swirled it around her mouth before swallowing. A non-committal hum slipped from her lips, and she twisted her pendant through the fingers of her free hand.

"Hmm. You're right." Jelisette walked around the space, shadows following her like dogs as she touched several dresses.

Brynleigh didn't particularly enjoy wearing formal attire, but she had several fancier pieces since she was often required to attend events with her Maker. Personally, Brynleigh would rather live in leggings. They were comfortable and convenient, and she always felt beautiful in them .

Jelisette pinched a scarlet sundress between her fingers. "You want something special. It needs to say, ‘I could kill you with a single nip of my fangs, but I won't because I'm a good girl.'" She laughed cruelly, dropping the dress. "Though we both know that isn't true."

Another hum. Her Maker was right. Brynleigh wasn't a good girl. She'd never been one, even before her Making. As a child, scarcely a week went by that she didn't get in trouble for one thing or another. And now? Since her vampiric re-birth, Brynleigh no longer cared about trivial, mortal matters like "good" and "bad." Revenge was the driving force in her life, her reason for being, her first thought when she woke, and the fuel for her dreams.

It was those sweet thoughts of vengeance that propelled Brynleigh off the bed. Her bare feet padded on the plush cream carpet. She sipped her blood wine, entering the closet to stand beside her Maker. She pointed at a glimmering sequined garment tucked towards the back, half-buried by other clothes. "What about that one?"

Jelisette tilted her head, her brown hair falling over her shoulder as she pursed her lips. She pulled out the dress, studying it like a beast assessing its dinner.

"Hmm, good choice." She turned the garment around, taking it in from all angles. "Yes, this is the one. It will stand out from the others. No one will be able to resist you like this." Her brow rose. "The public's opinion is important, you know."

"I know," Brynleigh said.

The Choosing was televised and broadcast to the entire Republic. Couples who participated in the once-a-decade event were often considered semi-celebrities when it was over. Tonight was about more than just entering the Hall of Choice. This was Brynleigh's first chance to make an impression on the press.

Jelisette handed the dress to her progeny. Hundreds of black sequins sparkled like an entire galaxy was embedded in the fabric. "Get dressed; you're leaving in an hour."

There was no warmth in either Jelisette's voice or her countenance, and her assessing black gaze was equally cold as it ran over Brynleigh. That was fine.

Brynleigh didn't need warmth or comfort. Vampires didn't rely on emotions as humans did. It was one of her first lessons.

Jelisette glided out the door, her retreat silent thanks to her immortal grace, and as soon as she was alone, Brynleigh discarded her robe. The dress she'd selected was a tight onyx number that would hug her curves in all the right places. She'd never worn it before, and tonight seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Brynleigh slid the gown over her head, letting the fabric fall to the ground. Long sleeves tapered at her fingers. The hem trailed on the floor. Three strategically placed cut-outs highlighted her stomach and the curve of her breasts. The back scooped low, practically non-existent, and the material started right above the curve of her bottom.

If Brynleigh hadn't been a creature of the night, she probably would've been cold in a dress like this. Midsummer nights, even in the Central Region, got cold. The garment wasn't exactly built for warmth. Luckily for Brynleigh, being a child of the moon meant she could walk outside in the middle of a snowstorm and not be affected by the temperature.

Finishing her wine with one final gulp, Brynleigh placed the empty glass on her desk and grabbed her brush. She styled her hair into long flowing waves that tumbled over her left shoulder. For jewelry, she wore her pendant. Nothing else was required.

Rule number two: Doubly blessed vampires do not hide behind jewels or makeup. They let their gods-given gifts speak for themselves.

This was a rule Brynleigh was happy to follow. As a whole, vampires had an unnatural, too-beautiful-to-be-real quality about them, and Brynleigh was no different. She was the same as she'd been before her Making… but not. Her skin was smoother, lacking all blemishes; her eyes were sharper; her nose was slightly more delicate; and her hair was shinier.

Brynleigh drew in a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She reached within herself, pulling on the shadows that danced in her veins. They responded eagerly to her call, flooding out of her outstretched hands. Her wings were next. Those dark, bat-like appendages emerged and hung on her exposed back.

She rolled her shoulders, enjoying the added weight of her wings, before slipping her feet into three-inch black stilettos. Grabbing the matching clutch, she strode over to her dresser. It didn't take long to find what she was looking for. After all, very few of her personal mementos had survived the events of the night she'd been Made.

Gently picking up the yellowed piece of paper she sought, she studied it for a long moment before folding it on the creased lines. She worked carefully, not wanting it to rip, then slipped it in the clutch beside her phone and charger. Her packed duffle bag was on the floor by the front door. It would be sent to the Hall of Choice and arrive a few hours after her.

Brynleigh did not shed a tear as she left her room for the last time, nor did she worry about what she was leaving behind. Sentimentality was for the weak, and this was but a stop on her road to revenge.

Jelisette and Zanri were sitting at the chess board when Brynleigh entered the living room. Jelisette had changed and wore a long black sweater and a flowing skirt. Her sleeve slipped as she cupped her chin, revealing a thick black marking on her wrist.

Zanri, wearing his usual jeans and t-shirt, looked up. His eyes darkened as they swept over Brynleigh, and he whistled.

"I'll be damned, B," he said appreciatively. "If I didn't bat for the other team, I'd be all over you. No one will be able to resist you like that."

Brynleigh laughed, and her shoulders loosened as Zanri's comment diffused some of the tension running through her. "That's precisely the point."

Just because the Choosing was a blind love competition didn't mean Brynleigh couldn't let her competitors know she was willing to do anything to win. She was young and beautiful, confident in her body, and she didn't care who knew it.

Jelisette moved the knight before looking up. "Do you have everything?"

"Yes." Brynleigh's voice was cold and emotionless, like her Maker's.

"And you remember the plan?"

Another nod. "Of course."

They'd gone over it a hundred times. Brynleigh knew what she was doing. She would seek out Captain Waterborn and make him fall in love with her.

Zanri moved his bishop and folded his hands. "Your turn."

Picking up her rook, Jelisette slowly moved it across the board with predatory ease. "Very good. And remember, you can't?—"

"Trust anyone." Brynleigh snapped her wings tight against her back and lifted her chin. "Yes, ma'am. Rule number one. I know."

She'd memorized the rules and knew them backward and forwards. This was her game to lose.

Jelisette released the rook, removing Zanri's knight from the board. The shifter cursed quietly under his breath, frowning as he studied the game.

Zanri would lose.

There were three paths to Jelisette's victory, all attainable within five moves.

"Then you're ready." Brynleigh's Maker stood and produced a golden envelope from her pocket. Handing it to her progeny, she waited until Brynleigh met her gaze. "Your ticket in."

The thick paper was cool to the touch, the embossed metallic filigree pressing into Brynleigh's fingers. "I won't let you down."

Brynleigh's shadows pooled at her feet, and she prepared to leave.

The last thing she heard was Jelisette's melodic murmur, "See that you don't."

Brynleigh sat in the back of the limo her Maker had procured, her fingers lying flat on her thighs as she stared out the window. The chauffeur wasn't talkative, which was fine with her. She was wholly focused on her task and happy to watch Golden City's sparkling skyline pass by.

The namesake triple arches rising above the city gleamed against the starless sky. Their gilded glow shone brighter than any other lights burning through the darkness of the night.

Golden City was the largest urban area in the Republic of Balance. It was the capital and housed the governing body that looked over the welfare of the entire Republic. The Council of Representatives met here, and millions of citizens called the sprawling urban area their home. It was one of the most prosperous regions on the continent, and the golden arches symbolized its wealth.

Some people said this was the most beautiful city in the Central Region. Others claimed there was nothing like it anywhere in the Republic, that its beauty was unmatched. Once, she'd even heard someone say that Golden City rivaled the ancient Emerald Palace in its resplendence.

Brynleigh did not see the beauty. She did not see the appeal of the golden arches or the glimmer of money found around every corner.

All she saw was a city fueled by bloodshed and deception.

No amount of gold could hide the broken aspects of this world. No money could stop the cracks in the gilded veneer from showing. The beautiful illusion of Golden City hid the inequality that reigned in this place. Death often visited those who were less fortunate.

When Brynleigh was a child, she'd learned about the formation of the Republic of Balance. They'd spent a year learning about the Unification of the Four Kingdoms. Many centuries after the Battle of Balance, the Founders of the Republic had dreamed of a country where everyone was equal and lived beneath a single banner.

It was all a fucking joke.

The limo turned a corner and passed a white marble government building. Two statues of the same material stood outside the building, facing each other. The ancient elves were the High Ladies, once responsible for resetting the balance. One was covered in green whorls and swirls, while the other's tattoos were red. Everyone in the Republic knew of these two and the lengths they and their mates had gone to restore the balance long ago.

The Republic's flag flapped above their heads, illuminated by solar lights. The white banner, nearly as large as a car, had four roses encircling a scale.

Brynleigh scowled. The citizens of the Republic of Balance lived under one government, but the equality the Founders had desired was nowhere to be seen.

The Representatives and their families held a disproportionate amount of wealth and power. They were the government, the law, the army. They were in charge, and those who had the misfortune of being born outside their glorious ranks—which happened to be the majority of the Republic's citizens—suffered greatly.

Brynleigh's fingers curled around her gilded invitation, and anger coursed through her veins.

She wouldn't let the emotion rule her, though. Grabbing that anger, she bottled it up and shoved it deep inside.

The limo slowed as it turned another corner, and the driver lowered the barrier between them.

His hazel eyes met hers through the mirror. "We're fourth in line, Miss de la Point," he said, his gravelly voice breaking Brynleigh from her thoughts.

"Understood." Unfurling her fingers, she smoothed out the invitation.

"It shouldn't be long now. I'll let you prepare." He rolled the divider back up.

Brynleigh ran her tongue over the tip of her fangs, letting the slight prick of pain ground her.

She was about to enter the Choosing. A flurry of excitement spun in her stomach despite her best efforts to remain cool-headed about the entire affair. It was fair, she reasoned, to be a little excited because this was the biggest event of the decade. Each participant would arrive at the Hall of Choice in a limo. Once they exited their vehicles, they would walk through an arch of shadows designed to hide them from view from the other participants. This was a blind love competition, after all.

Efforts would be made to keep the men and women separate before the official Unmasking on the night of the proposals. The Masked Ball was one of the most important moments during the Choosing when the participants finally saw their Chosen partners face to face for the first time.

That didn't mean they'd be invisible until then, however. Press events were a very real part of the Choosing. After all, the Representatives wanted to ensure their offspring had time in the limelight.

Even though the Republic prided itself on the technological advancements that had occurred ever since the fae migrated across the Indigo Ocean, the Choosing itself was an antiquated process. It was a relic of times past, a remnant of efforts aimed at ensuring that everyone felt unified. Watching people fall in love was supposed to help the Republic connect and find common ground. That was no longer the case. Now, the upper class used the Choosing as another way to hold their superiority over the rest of the world.

As much as Brynleigh was disgusted by the show of wealth in Golden City, she had no choice but to play along with it. She needed to get close to Ryker. This was her only chance. She'd searched for the fae all over, but finding him had been impossible after he'd gone underground six years ago. She'd never even seen a picture of him. Someone had gone to great lengths to wipe all evidence of the captain from any publicly available sources of information.

The limo moved closer, and the thick, black fog fell over the windows. Even Brynleigh's vampiric eyes couldn't see through the opaque mist. If she were mortal, she would've been afraid. She'd never much enjoyed the dark when she was human. But she was no longer mortal, and that kind of thing no longer bothered her.

She'd been reborn into a creature of the night, and the darkness was her home. Her safe place. It called to her.

She straightened her dress and smoothed out wrinkles. She kept her wings on display, wanting to show the press precisely who she was.

It wasn't long before the engine turned off. Hundreds of heartbeats were the melodic backdrop to the city's symphony. Most were the rapid, steady heartbeats of humans and elves, but a few other slow, rhythmic thrums told her other vampires were nearby.

The driver walked around and opened Brynleigh's door. Darkness rose above them, an arch of swirling night. Inside the shadows were dozens of people with cameras waiting to catch a glimpse of her.

She inched towards the open door, careful not to snag her dress. The moment Brynleigh's heeled foot touched the pavement, cameras flashed. The press' lights lit up the night like bursts of lightning in a spring storm. In one hand, Brynleigh held her clutch. In the other, she gripped her invitation. Her shoulders were back, and a pristine smile graced her face.

An elaborate, long, scarlet carpet led up the massive steps of the Hall of Choice. The path they wanted her to take was obvious, but Brynleigh wasn't an obvious vampire.

She took a few steps down the red carpet, smiled, and waved.

If they wanted a show, she'd give them one. Fanning out her wings, Brynleigh allowed them to stretch to their full length. They were heavy, capable of supporting her weight, and her favorite part of being a vampire.

A few murmurs rippled through the crowd, assuring her she had everyone's attention.

Only then, once she was certain they were watching, did she release her shadows. The dark wisps pooled at her feet, eager to do her bidding.

"A doubly blessed vampire," one of the reporters murmured.

Several more cameras flashed.

"A creature of the night," was another remark.

"Beautiful."

The comments swirled around Brynleigh as she flapped her wings. She rose in the air, remaining within the black arch, enjoying how the wind caressed her like a lover.

Someone else noted, "This one will be a favorite."

Brynleigh didn't hide her expanding grin as she flew towards the guarded entrance of the Hall of Choice, bypassing the steps entirely. She wasn't here for fame, fortune, or any other perks.

She was here for revenge, and finally, it would be hers.