17. her soul to take

17

her soul to take

Rivian

She is willing to let me take what she knows most, basic human life, and turn into a ruin of death, all for the thirst of revenge.

Part of me hates that I'm allowing her to think that all she's getting out of this is the hope that she can exact punishment on those who have wronged her; I can feel that she wants more from this than just that. Does that mean I am developing a soft spot for her? Maybe. But seeing her in doubt when she found her way back to me had something pulling at my insufferable heart strings. It gave me a glimpse into how much she desires more . Which told me that maybe she was considering this arrangement for more than just revenge, until I gave her doubt and filled her head with only one purpose for wanting this marriage.

Though, if I can't shake these feelings I'm having toward her—feelings that seem to go deeper than that of the tether—then I'm going to be one worse-for-wear vampire king.

When I led her into my office—our hands laced together—she absentmindedly ran her thumb along my own, and I nearly buckled at her touch. I don’t buckle.

The way it lit tiny fires as she gently dragged her thumb up and down my skin. I hated it. I was so close to pushing her away just to free myself of the torture. But I let her hold on, knowing that she sought comfort in a situation that should be rather daunting and dangerous for someone like her. Knowing that I'm the one putting her in that line of danger. Knowing that I crave her touch and fear it all the same.

It’s been hours since that moment. I told her to head back home and wait for me to come get her, giving her time to gather the rest of her belongings before she moved in.

"I see you've already started wedding planning?" Troy pops into my bathroom without knocking. She leans her shoulder against the door frame with her arms crossed at her chest as she unabashedly stares down the seamster measuring me for my tux.

"I don't see a reason to wait any longer." I slide out of the suit jacket. "She's accepted her fate and I have duties to fulfill. Time is of the essence, little sister."

"So proper, Sir Duquesne." Troy bows her head at me sarcastically, waving her hands in the air for dramatic effect.

"I guess you don't know about the secret agenda in this kingdom then. I forget how peasants aren't privileged to that kind of knowledge." I speak jocularly, intending to leave her oblivious to the truth behind my words.

"Peasant? I have the same blood as you, Rivian. Even if it is just half. " She rolls her eyes at me.

And even though I know she believes that we're joking, I feel a slight sting of regret in my chest at the joke I had just made. It was a poor attempt at humor and in the event that she might hold onto my words later and let it stir unfavorable emotions in her, I decide to apologize.

"You're right, forgive me. I didn't mean to belittle you." I take it back because I know how it feels to be told something isn't good enough. I've seen my mother get banished because she wasn't good enough. I've seen Lucynda get abused because she wasn't good enough. I’ve been told that I wasn’t good enough. And the last thing I want to do is make Troy feel small and make her despise me.

"Apology accepted." She flashes a smile my way which makes me feel more at ease. "Now let's talk about the real reason you're rushing this marriage." Troy throws her hands on her hips as if she's ready to start an argument with me.

Bad choice, she knows I never lose.

"And what might that be, in your so humble opinion?" I entertain her topic of choice, allowing the seamster to tie up his last few measurements before turning from the reflection of Troy in the mirror, to meeting her face to face.

"That you're scared she'll change her mind."

"Kind of like you did the other night?" I argue back, letting her know that I did not miss her disappearance at the party I had asked her to prioritize.

"I didn't even think you'd notice. Those parties are mainly just so you Nocturnes can get their fix safely, Vinculum or not, they're just glorified social gatherings." I raise slight concern at the idea that my sister would consider a party worthless. Especially one of tradition, seeing as she's never been defiant of the Society's traditions before. But also because this girl loves trouble.

"The fact that you even thought for a second I wouldn't notice is a true testament to how much slack I cut you, Troy. Maybe I need to keep a closer eye on you." She doesn't miss the chance to roll her eyes at me again.

"Let's get one thing straight," she points her finger at me playfully, "you may be able to pull the possessive card on your new little dolly, but on me, it won't fly, big bro."

I chuckle at her attempt to stand up to me. She tries to best me, to get me to loosen the leash I seem to have on her, but twenty-five or not, she is my little sister and I swore to look after her. My word or my life.

"You know I've been meaning to ask you about your little run in with her." I look to change the subject, walking over to the bay window. "How did that go, Troian ?"

She crosses her arms once more, this time pulling more attitude than before.

"About the same as your run in with her at the masquerade, Rivian . Heard you about scared her to death. The poor girl has no idea what's in store for her, does she? Do you really want a run-away bride before you even get a chance to propose to her?"

That gets my attention. I pull away from the window and give my sister a stern glance.

" Now you're really overstepping." I smirk.

"You mean to tell me you're not going to actually ask her to marry you? Do men really have no decency these days?" Her quip doesn’t affect me at all and she knows that that’s not how things work around here but she continues with her incessant nonsense.

"Most girls dream about the day they get to have a man fall to his knees for her. Besides, you're about to throw her to the wolves. I would like to think that having the decency to soften the blow with a cute little proposal might make her less resentful toward you in the future."

I roll my eyes at her nonsensical psychobabble. I know she’s only trying to push my buttons.

"Troian, do you not hear yourself when you speak?" I give her a generously sarcastic grin which causes her to giggle at her attempt frivolous sibling banter.

“I do, and I think I sound rather intelligent and hot,” she deadpans. I can’t take her seriously. Her sass brings me to thoughts of my future queen, comparing the two in way of words. Lucynda might be the only one to match Troian with her attitude honestly.

I turn my attention out the window, noticing how the trees blow in the autumn wind and the clouds storm the gray skies. The sky is darkening as the sun goes down beyond the horizon which can only mean that soon my Nocturnes will be coming out of the shadows to play for the night.

"Where were you the night of the party, Troy? Anything I need to be concerned about?" I turn my attention back to my sister.

"Oh, brother. You should always be concerned about me." She waves her hand in a carefree gesture.

I give her a stern look. She knows I don't like when she jokes about her safety. Granted, I know Troian can take care of herself. It's an older brother thing I suppose.

"Kidding, nothing to worry about. I just found a boy that I couldn't deny, and we had a pretty fantastic time together, I might say."

Troian has a big heart and a knack for getting into trouble. But truth be told, if it weren't for her exercising her right to be an out-of-control party animal, I probably would have never known about Lucynda. But I do worry about her sometimes. She has way too much fun with her vampirism and I fear it might get her in trouble one day.

"Well, I would appreciate a little communication from you in regard to your social activities. I don't like to keep you restricted; you know that. But I can't have you causing any problems right now."

"You worry too much, you know that?"

"It's my job. If I asked you to be at the masquerade, I need you to be at the masquerade. Besides, you are aware there is a rogue on the loose, are you not? With your unaccounted for disappearances, one would think you could be responsible for the killings."

This makes her giggle.

"We are all technically killers, Riv. Are we not?" She folds her arms over her chest looking proud at her conclusion.

She's got a point. Murder is in our blood. But killing for fun or without purpose is against the rules. There’s a balance that needs to be followed; keeping Outsiders oblivious to our predatorial ways is the biggest concern for our kind. And making sure we are where we say we’re going to be when someone disobeys that balance is crucial.

"It's like the dark whisper of the century, the vampire killer gone mad , is what they’re calling it. But who's to say someone didn't just fall into a really bad curse of bloodlust and go Michael Myers on-"

I pin her with my death stare, knowing that her words hit too close to home. She closes her mouth and tenses likely realizing that she just pointed me out as the suspect.

"Well not you of course. I'm not saying that I think it's you, but I am just saying." Her hands are held palm up in defense of her words. I know what she meant, but the truth stands.

"I can't have you disappearing right in the midst of accusations. Someone might think it really is you ."

"Me?" She hooks her thumb back toward herself and expresses a dumbfounded look. " Yeah right . That's highly laughable. Besides, when's the last time I killed an innocent human?"

"Depends, where's that boy you claimed to have spent the last few nights with?" I ask as I stride past her and toward the bathroom door leading back into the bedroom.

"Okay, okay. You got me.” She holds her hands up in defense as she follows behind me. “But it turns out he was a prisoner on the run. Convicted of murdering his wife. I always end up attracting the psychos, don’t I? But yeah, with that little piece of information, I decided no one would miss the loser. He was rather fun to play with while he lasted.” She plasters a cynical smile against her lips. One that reminds me of my own.

"You are something else, Troy," I say to her as we walk out into the hallway.

"You love me anyways." She pats me on my shoulder and starts to break away to head her own direction.

I need to go for Lucynda soon. I’m sure she’s probably wallowing in her overdrawn out thoughts like she does. Not that it’s any fault of her own. But I’ll need to bring her home tonight and get her settled in her room.

“Are you busy tomorrow?” I call out to Troy before she gets too far.

“Not sure yet.” She shrugs her shoulders. “What’s up?”

“I need you to free your schedule to take Lucynda dress shopping.”

“Dress shopping? Really?” The look on her face insults me as she turns to face me.

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“Yeah. You won’t even propose to the girl, yet you want her to actually go and pick out a wedding dress?” She pauses to roll her eyes at me, something I recognize she loves doing to me. “As if you care.” Her arms fold over her chest once more, and I’m starting to hate the way disappointment from Troian feels even if it is all in good fun.

“You know it’s tradition to-” She holds her hand up to interrupt me.

“I get it, Rivian. I just-” Troy takes a deep breath. “I just want to see you happy. You know I love my mom, but I don’t want what happened to your mom to happen to Lucynda and . . . you’re wearing maroon. ” She lowers her voice on the last three words. I don’t miss the way her eyes look at me with sadness. But I don’t understand where this sudden wish-me-well has come from. Troy has never really cared to take more than a few seconds to catch up on life, let alone to want happiness for someone else. Not that she’s self-centered. It’s just not who she is. Call it a trauma response.

When the former queen ran away, she lost a mother. Someone who didn’t even care to come back for her, considering she isn’t actually dead.

"I do not have feelings for Lucynda, Troy. So, get that idea out of your thick skull. Didn't we just discuss-"

“Yeah, but you never know if-"

"I do not plan to fall in love with her. I'm simply following our lore and the color of my tux is for my mother. It was her favorite, after all." My voice booms a little louder than I intended it to, but as I grow tired of this game of back and forth with my little sister, I think it serves her right to not argue with me over minor things. It’s my wedding, not hers. Though I do find myself a little frustrated with her for bringing out a vulnerability in me, something I refuse to show.

"Right. I'm sorry." She rubs the back of her neck as she looks down on the ground.

Silence surges between us, almost so loud it causes ringing in my ears.

"Have you visited her lately?" Troy’s voice softens, a sweet sympathetic tone hand in hand with the look in her eyes.

"No. It wouldn't do anyone any good. She does not remember me and I-" I cut myself off. I am not a man of many emotions, but when it comes to my mother, it’s something I simply wish to avoid.

"Riv, I know it's hard. I really do. I'm sorry for what my father did to her. If I had been born and old enough to stand up to him for you, I would have. Just as you've done for me. But that doesn't mean you have to stop visiting her because it's hard. And maybe, just maybe, you should at least try with Lucynda. I know your mom would have wanted you to and-"

"That's enough, Troy! You don't know the first thing about my mother. My father made sure of that!” This time, I let my anger soar. It shocks Troy so hard that she flinches as I throw my fist up against the hallway wall.

I have never raised my voice to Troian, only never to her. I blame it on the sanguis maledictum this time around. It’s raging inside of me, the hunger stronger than ever. The last time I fed was from that girl in the display hallways at the party, which doesn’t seem that long ago but for a vampire…

When Lucynda watched, her eyes burned with desire. I heard her heartbeat drum faster and faster. I have been trying to deny a feed until our blood bind, but even if my plans for this wedding are on schedule, that won’t be for five more days. I doubt I’ll make it that long and if I am getting this angry with my sweet little sister, then I will definitely need to remedy my hunger.

I bring my attention back to the present situation where I find Troy staring at me with so much disgust that it makes me furious with myself, but I’ve already apologized one time too many today, so I let this one slide.

“I have things to do, Troian. Did you need anything else from me?"

"No. I guess not."

“Tomorrow at noon, don’t be late,” I warn her before letting her turn back around and disappearing around the corner.