7. A Meeting to Remember

CHAPTER 7

A Meeting to Remember

T his was it. The moment Brynleigh had been waiting for ever since she learned who was responsible for her family's murder. The man she'd been searching for was on the other side of the wall.

It had been a long day. Every time the AI connected her with a man who wasn't Ryker, Brynleigh felt a little more deflated. She had taken cursory notes in case anyone was watching, but she hadn't paid too much attention to the other men. She wasn't here for them, after all.

At lunch, Brynleigh had enjoyed a double serving of blood—warm this time, which was how she preferred it—and listened as the other women shared about their dates. Brynleigh hadn't joined in on the conversations. She'd spent the time in contemplative silence, wondering how she would react when she finally met the captain.

Brynleigh had run dozens of scenarios through her head, but she had never anticipated this. The moment she heard his voice, she froze. Her heart thundered at the mere sound. Her shadows writhed. She gripped her pen so tightly that it snapped in her hand. Eyes wide, she let the broken writing implement fall before the ink could stain her fingers.

For all her preparations, all her plans, all her meticulous calculations, Brynleigh hadn't anticipated this .

Ryker's voice sounded good . His gravelly, almost smoky tone sent a bolt of desire running through her.

She would be going to hell for this. What kind of person was attracted to the man who killed their family? Her fangs pulsed and burned in her gums. A completely irrational desire to break the wall between them and look upon the fae nearly overwhelmed her.

He was so close, and yet, so far.

"Hello?" Ryker said again. "Is anyone there?"

Brynleigh jolted, realizing she had to act quickly if she was going to save this relationship. How ridiculous would it be if this entire endeavor ended before it started because she couldn't get her head on straight? She rubbed her temples and forced herself to get a grip.

"Hi. Sorry about that; I heard your voice, and I… forgot how to form words for a moment." There was nothing like a sprinkle of truth in a relationship built on deception, right?

She was here for one reason, and one reason only: to make her enemy fall in love with her so she could get close to him. To do that, to make him Choose her, she had to be perfect. Not too hard, but not too soft. Desirable and easy to love, but not such an easy catch that he felt she was too simple.

Whatever Ryker Waterborn needed in a wife, she would be that person.

There was a pause, and Brynleigh imagined this man—this powerful fae—considering her words.

Please, believe me , she silently begged him.

Her nails dug into the flesh of her palms as she waited. She prayed to Isvana and Ithiar that she hadn't ruined everything.

Jelisette would never forgive Brynleigh if she destroyed years of planning because of something as pedantic as attraction .

Rule number eight: emotions are for mortals, not vampires .

A frisson of icy fear ran through Brynleigh at the thought of her Maker's displeasure.

The last time Brynleigh had forgotten one of Jelisette's rules, she'd barely been a year past her Making. The incident was so minor that Brynleigh couldn't even remember what happened .

It didn't matter if she'd forgotten her transgression because she would never forget the punishment she'd endured.

Jelisette had locked Brynleigh in the cellar for a week and strictly forbidden Zanri from helping the Fledgling. Brynleigh had nearly gone mad from lack of blood so soon after her Making. She'd begged until her voice went hoarse. Screamed until her cries were nothing but air. Sobbed until she had no more tears. No one had come, no matter what she did or said.

Seven long days. Alone. Cold. Starving.

When Jelisette had freed her progeny, she'd simply said, "Remember, Brynleigh, rules are rules. We must always follow them."

Brynleigh hadn't replied. There was no point. Her Maker had proven her point. Follow the rules, and nothing bad would happen. Break them, and… well, the next time, she wouldn't be so kind.

A baritone chuckle rumbled through the headphones, snapping Brynleigh out of her thoughts.

"I like you," Ryker said. "You're funny."

Brynleigh sighed in relief, her eyes momentarily fluttering closed. Thank all the gods, she hadn't completely ruined everything. Now, all she had to do was make sure he remained interested.

"Honestly, that's the first time anyone has called me funny," Brynleigh admitted, the words slipping from her mouth before she could stop them. "I'm not usually one to make others laugh."

Scream? Yes. Run away? Also, yes. Laugh? Nope.

"Fascinating. I think you're quite humorous."

She wasn't sure whether to be delighted or insulted by that comment. Was he laughing with her or at her? She supposed it didn't matter. He sounded intrigued, which was good.

"I shall endeavor to make you laugh again." If Brynleigh had to become a fucking comedian to make the captain fall in love with her, then she'd do it. She would be whatever he needed.

He chuckled. "Tell me, Oh Humorous One, what's your name?"

Had she forgotten to give it to him? Brynleigh blinked. Isvana help her, she must have been more affected by his voice than she'd originally thought.

She ran her hands over her braid, which hung over her shoulder. "Brynleigh de la Point."

He repeated her name slowly, like each syllable was a delicacy, and he was savoring each taste.

The vampire ground her teeth at the sound. Her name had no right sounding so good in his mouth.

He added, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Why did it sound like he was being earnest? And why did she like the sound of his voice so much? A low, pulsing headache formed as Brynleigh puzzled through these new, troublesome developments.

"Agreed." Hoping to get back on track and regain control, Brynleigh took a large swallow of the blood wine she'd grabbed after lunch. Crossing her leggings-clad legs, she leaned back on the couch. "So, Ryker, how's the process agreeing with you so far?"

If any of his dates had been like hers, he'd already endured a hundred "get-to-know-you" questions. Brynleigh wanted to stand out and be remembered. What better way was there than to take a different approach than everyone else?

Several seconds went by in silence. Brynleigh imagined this faceless man with the intriguing, attractive voice mulling over his words. Was he on a couch like her or on a chair with his legs slung over the side like Yvette? Or maybe he was strolling up and down the length of the ballroom. The options were endless.

"It's been… more than I ever expected. This morning, I was nervous. I'm never nervous. It's not something I usually do. In my job, I need to be in control. But this is different." A choked sound came from him, and he groaned, "Gods. Why am I telling you this? We just met. It's strange, but I feel?—"

"Comfortable," she provided before she could stop herself. The word slipped out of her mouth, and she cursed herself for speaking.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Even though something innately easy came from speaking with this fae, she never should have admitted to it.

She was definitely going to hell.

"Exactly," he said on an exhale.

The problem was that Brynleigh felt it, too. It was like they'd known each other for years, not minutes. The vampire had felt varying degrees of awkwardness with all the other men. Aside from the first moment, where the sound of Ryker's voice made her forget how to speak, she didn't feel anything like that with the fae.

But maybe it was because she knew him. Not personally, but she'd been aware of Captain Ryker Waterborn's existence for years. She'd met him, not in person, but in the form of the magic he wielded.

That horrible night, with its sky-high waves, burning lungs, and floating bodies, was forever imprinted on her mind. Jelisette found her that same night, half-drowned and soaking wet.

After her Making, Brynleigh learned all there was to know about the captain. She had studied him like he was a difficult equation, and she was the mathematician determined to solve it. Even after he'd become a virtual ghost, she'd searched for him across the continent. She spent every waking hour trying to find morsels of information about him. Jelisette, Isvana bless her soul, helped Brynleigh as best she could.

Every detail they unearthed, no matter how big or small, was like a nugget of gold as Brynleigh sought to familiarize herself with the captain she planned to kill.

Brynleigh knew Ryker was under constant guard, both because of his position as the son of a Representative and as a captain in the army, and he was extremely private. He had a sister—River—who was almost two decades younger than him. She wasn't even Mature yet. His mother was a Fae Representative and worked closely with Chancellor Ignatia Rose. Brynleigh even knew that Ryker's father was ill. He'd come down with the Stillness over a decade ago and hadn't been the same ever since.

Maybe that was why when he spoke, she felt drawn to him.

Yes. That had to be it. There was no other reason he made her feel this way. None at all. Certainly, it had nothing to do with the way her fangs burned with the need to bite, nor did it have anything to do with the curling ball of want in her core.

It was just because Brynleigh knew who the captain was.

He's a killer .

Jelisette's voice echoed through Brynleigh's mind. Yes. That was a good, solid reminder of who she was speaking with. Brynleigh could never, ever forget why she was here .

It was time to get the conversation back on track.

Twisting her pendant through her fingers, Brynleigh asked, "What do you do when you're not seeking a wife in the Choosing, Ryker?"

"I'm a captain in the army."

"Oh?" She feigned surprise. "Have you done that for a long time?"

She imagined him nodding. "Since before I Matured. It's my calling."

And there it was. He was a bringer of death. It was his fault her family had died, his fault she'd been Made, and his fault she was alone.

"Do you enjoy your work?" Brynleigh asked.

He didn't even pause before saying, "I do. I'm good at my job and like what I do."

Fae couldn't lie. Everyone knew that. Whatever warmth had been flourishing in Brynleigh was doused as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on her.

"I bet you're very good at your job," she said flatly, unable to even infuse a bit of warmth into her voice.

"Most of the time," was Ryker's response.

"Oh? When was the last time you made a mistake?"

Part of her felt like she was making one right now, but she needed to know what he would say. If he answered her instead of staying silent, if he told her something, it would be the reminder she needed that he wasn't a good man. That he made mistakes. That he was a murderer.

"A few years ago," he said.

Fuck. Was that remorse in his voice?

"What happened?" She didn't want to know, but the question slipped out of her mouth. It was like her body had a mind of its own.

He sighed. "People… died." He spoke slowly, and there was a hint of something that sounded awfully similar to regret in his tone. "I still think about it to this day."

A collection of curses that would make even the most hardened Death Elves blush ran through her mind. The question wasn't supposed to make her feel bad for him. That emotion had no business here. Brynleigh grabbed it and threw it away.

"Oh," was all she could manage to say .

Ryker shifted gears. "Enough about me. I'd love to know more about you, Brynleigh. You said your last name is de la Point, right?"

"Yes."

"Are you, by any chance, related to Jelisette?"

She nodded before remembering that he couldn't see her. She had anticipated this question—it inevitably always came after she revealed her last name, but right now, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

Most people were biased against vampires. Was he one of them? Part of her hoped he was because it would be easier to hate him. But the other part, the remnant of her humanity, wanted someone to see her for who she was, not what she was.

There was only one way to find out.

"Yes. She's my Maker. Following vampiric tradition, I took her last name after my Making."

A long moment stretched between them. Brynleigh dropped her necklace, twisting her hands together.

From the next couch over, Hallie glanced over at the vampire. The Fortune Elf's brows creased, and concern radiated from her. Are you alright? her eyes seemed to say.

I'm fine , Brynleigh mouthed.

There was no point in worrying her new friend, especially since it seemed like Hallie was fully engrossed in her date.

Luckily, Ryker didn't keep Brynleigh waiting for long.

"I bet you have a very sharp bite," the water fae said, a hint of humor in his voice.

Brynleigh laughed . The mirth burst out of her so loudly that she drew stares from several women around her. Sheepishly, she mouthed, Sorry .

She hadn't been expecting that at all. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd chuckled, let alone laughed. Not really.

She didn't have much to laugh about these days.

"You don't mind that I'm a vampire?" she confirmed. "It doesn't bother you?"

"Not at all," was his immediate response. "I'm a fae. Does that bother you? "

It fucking should bother her. Other things about him bothered her. But somehow, that wasn't one of them.

Brynleigh didn't care what someone was. Human or vampire, fae or mer, shifter or elf, witch or werewolf, it didn't matter. True, world-ending, soul-crushing evil could exist beneath anyone's skin. Darkness could find a home anywhere if the right circumstances presented themselves.

"No." She twisted her braid through her fingers. "What kind of fae are you?"

Obviously, she already knew the answer. However, since it was imperative Ryker never found out exactly who Brynleigh was, she had to keep up appearances.

"A water fae," he said.

"What does that mean exactly? Can you summon a few drops of water? A sprinkle?"

This time, it was his turn to laugh. The sound was as deep as his voice, and it washed over Brynleigh like the first drops of rain after a long summer's day. It woke parts of her that had no business being awake right now.

She yearned to hear that sound again and again…

And she wanted him to never, ever do that again in her presence.

"Not at all, sweetheart. More like storms."

The nickname registered in Brynleigh's mind, and she stared at the wall. Part of her rebelled against it, but the other couldn't help but preen. She liked it—a lot. That could possibly be problematic, but just like the issue of her burning fangs and twisting core, she gathered up that emotion and shoved it down, down, down until she couldn't feel it anymore.

Thank Isvana, a chime sounded in her headphones, and the AI interrupted them. The date would soon be over. They said farewell, and Ryker was kind as he wished Brynleigh a good rest of her day.

It was horrible.

Brynleigh chugged the remainder of her blood wine as soon as the connection broke. She closed her eyes and rested her head on the back of the couch. That did not go as planned.

The remainder of the afternoon went by in a blur. No matter how many other men she spoke to, she couldn't get a certain water fae and his deep voice out of her head.

In all her planning, Brynleigh had never anticipated that she might actually be interested in Ryker Waterborn. That she might actually… like him. He was nothing like what she expected. He wasn't hard or ruthless or cold.

That was frustrating, to say the least.

There wasn't a rule for this.