Chapter Ten
Samara
After training, I found solace in the Black Grimoire again.
The same way smelling Raphael’s blood made me feel all too much like a monster, tracing the spells inked in the grimoire made me feel like a witch all the way to my bones, even as my skin continued to scab over.
The book helped smooth over the current of emotions, replacing it with righteous anger.
Simpler. Better.
I’d lived my entire life afraid of vampires.
Now I had the power to do something about it.
And not just for me, for all witches and voids in the kingdom.
What if they didn’t have to live in fear of the vampires?
What if I could finally have a place among them, with gifts that put us on equal footing with the surrounding kingdoms?
If only I could access it.
To hold the book, I used fabric, the sparks of magic stinging, but still—magic.
My magic. I had no idea what I could do, or how to do it.
Spells in a grimoire were extremely complex by nature, anyway.
But there should be base powers—like the ability to thrall vampires—I should probably be able to access without too much trouble. Not that I had a way to test it.
I shut the book and frowned. Of course, witches also came in different strengths. One aquamancer might be able to conjure rain in a drought, another might only be able to part the shallowest stream.
I worried my lip with a fang. There was the very real possibility I was a weak necromancer. After all, my magic had never been detected as a child. I’d also spent my adolescence in Greymere. The magic-blocking prison was meant to drive witches insane, but I’d survived.
Or maybe my powers hadn’t activated until I’d spent time around vampires.
I turned the idea over in my mind. It stood to reason if being around vampires in the first place had drawn my powers out, I might only discover their depths if I spent more time with them.
And I knew just the witch to help me.
I reached for the summoning bell Thea had gifted me. The wooden handle was smooth, the silver polished, although I had rarely used it. She’d trusted me with it, which was no small measure in a friendship. I rang it.
“I thought you’d never call,” she chirped, strolling inside a few minutes later. “Did you recover from training earlier? You two went for hours.”
I didn’t need the reminder. I had no desire to be around Raphael, especially not when his blood could so quickly turn me into an animal.
“It was different, but I survived,” I hedged.
“Glad to hear it.” She winked at me. “What shall we do this evening? I found a great cache of old romances in the library we could check out.”
Thea’s willingness to pick up our friendship as if nothing had happened was a comfort beyond words. But it made the fact I wanted to use that kindness all the worse.
I fiddled with the edge of my dress’s sleeve. Though I couldn’t lie as a vampire, I wasn’t yet being fully honest with Thea. “I was thinking… maybe it’s time to meet more people. More vampires,” I clarified. “I know you spend a fair amount of time socializing at court. I’d like to do that too.”
Her gaze widened in surprise. “Really? You always declined my invitations before. What changed?”
Shit. How to answer without lying? “I became… this.” I gestured at myself with a hand. She’d think I meant a vampire. But I was thinking the necromancer. “I can’t hide from that. And I don’t want to.”
I’m something vampires should fear. I shouldn’t fear them.
Thea’s face split into a wide grin. She jumped up in excitement and pulled me into a hug.
“Oh, Sam, I’ve been waiting for this moment! You need to get out more, and trust me, you picked just the woman to show you around.”
I wished my answering grin was as genuine. “Great.”
“Oh, I know just the place for us to go,” she assured me, already running her hands over my dress to smooth out the lines. The warmth of her touch was palpable, compared to how my own skin felt now.
It almost made me feel human.
Until I looked past her shoulder and saw the empty carafe I’d drained earlier.
Amalthea led me down the winding halls of Damerel with purpose.
We’d split up to dress, since her chambers were a distance away.
Yet I braced as we left the top floor, waiting for the aching pain my distance from Raphael would bring, but none came.
Perhaps drinking the wretched blood had lessened it?
Good. I didn’t want to be leashed to the vampire king. Especially not after this morning. Perhaps I could even leave tomorrow, if the bond only lasted a few days and already I could manage such a distance.
But tonight I needed to test a different theory.
We went down to the second level, to the city. Not down the streets where I’d seen the donors before, but also nowhere near the shopping district.
Instead, we went down a particularly dark alley. I looked about nervously while Thea practically flounced over to a door and knocked in a distinct cadence of short and long pauses.
A wooden panel slid over at eye height. A pair of red eyes glared. “Password?”
“Amalthea,” she replied.
The door opened, and I followed Thea inside past a burly vampire.
“The password is your name?” I asked as quietly as I could.
She cut me a glance. “The password is whatever I say it is. I advise Raphael.”
I snorted. There was the Thea I knew.
Of course, she ruined it by adding, “As the king’s Chosen, your name will let you into any room you want to be in.”
I faked a smile, but it came out like a grimace. As we entered, it became obvious Thea had brought me to a… gentleman’s club.
Okay, that wasn’t precisely accurate. Women and men meandered about, and all were vampires, based on the fact the only heartbeat I heard came from Thea.
It might have bothered me, the exclusion of humans, but with the way my thirst persisted even after draining a glass of blood earlier today, I was grateful.
Besides, I told Thea I wanted to be around vampires, and now I was.
They were spread throughout the room, lounging over couches, confiding in bent conversations by chairs, leaning against the walls.
The men were dressed in coats and buttoned shirts opened at the top to expose the neck.
The women wore a mix of outfits, but most skirts were a great deal shorter than what was typical in court… and some even more than that.
Rich hues of purple and green decorated the rooms. Despite the decrepit entrance, the space was well maintained.
It smelled lightly of earthen smoke and a mix of perfumes.
They were faint, of course, as to not offend vampire sensitivities, but they reminded me of the wall of perfumes I’d once enjoyed in my bathing chamber.
“Here we are,” Thea declared as we reached an entryway to some random room. She pushed her hands into the silks that served as a door.
She poked her head in, and a chorus of protests immediately sounded.
“Oh, beast’s blood, Amalthea’s here!”
“Who let her in?”
“Not again!”
“That’s it, I’m cashing out.”
Thea wore their complaints like a crown and ushered me in.
“I’ve brought company,” she said proudly. “Now, make room.”
I blinked at the sight in front of me.
It was some kind of game. Half a dozen or so vampires sat around a big, round table covered in soft green fabric.
Animal bones carved into dice were set on the table, a small pile of shells and the like in front of each player.
Shells. I’d only seen illustrations of them in books.
With the Witch Kingdom being landlocked, beaches were little more than a fairy tale.
“Here we are.” Thea led me over to a recently vacated seat and settled in next to me.
“Who’s your lovely friend?” one asked Thea, the same male vampire who had cursed when he realized who had arrived.
He looked to be a year or two younger than me, though that hardly meant a thing when it came to creatures of the night. He cast an easy grin at me.
I didn’t manage to return it.
“This is the Lady Samara,” Thea said.
“Lady Samara?” he stammered, the grin falling off as the table erupted in complaints once more.
“You brought her here?” another murmured.
“You brought the king’s Chosen?”
“You brought his fledgling?”
Thea looked utterly unperturbed as she confronted them, while I would have been gratified if my chair turned out to have a mouth and teeth and swallowed me whole. “What’s the problem? We’re both here to play.”
No one said anything.
“Unless you’re all going to forfeit…” She trailed off, meaningfully gesturing to the stack of shells in front of each player.
“Of course not,” the same young male from before scoffed, some of his bravado returning.
“Good. Now deal us some shells and bones.”
“It’s an honor to meet you,” the vampiress next to me said. Her white hair was long and pinned back in an artfully messy bun, her periwinkle dress cut into a wide vee that dipped past her collarbone. “I’m Cynthia, of the Night-Singer clan.”
“Nice to meet you.” I looked at the table, where the dice had been redistributed. “How do we play?”
“Oh, Round Toss is easy,” she assured me, and launched into an explanation of the game.
It was fairly simple—the bones were marked with dots on each face, with different numbers of sides, from four to eight depending on the bone.
It was a matter of matching your rolls based on how the others did.
Part luck, part strategy, Cynthia explained.
The shells were assigned different values, allowing for wagers.
The game began, and though the group was obviously curious about me, few direct questions came. Instead, they peppered Thea with questions, and she gossiped right back in between extremely unsportsmanlike conduct.