Chapter Thirty-Nine #2
I understood what he meant. When you could hear a heartbeat, it was hard to hide in the shadows and pretend not to be there. “Where would she appear?”
“Anywhere I was, as best I could tell. I didn’t take to the intrusions kindly.
But she kept showing up, and demonstrated her value with her visions.
Having an oracle was a boon, of course, but she proved her loyalty many times over beyond that.
At some point, she claimed chambers for herself and abandoned her old home.
She would challenge me, unafraid and self-assured that she was right. Sometimes she even was.”
At this, I couldn’t resist looking at him anymore. His lip quirked, recalling some memory with fondness.
“And Demos?”
“If anything, I had to win him over the way Thea won me. I killed his last king, which he didn’t take to kindly.”
I startled, the wood dropping from my hands. “What?”
Raphael’s hand snapped out, grabbing the branch before it could roll from my lap. He returned it to me, but I could hardly focus on whittling now. “What do you mean you killed his last king?”
“It’s how succession works. I challenged the old king to combat. He was a coward and appointed ten of his most ruthless soldiers as proxies. I think Demos was more upset about that. They were his comrades.”
“How could the former king do that? Ten? It’s hardly fair.”
Raphael shrugged. “When you make the rules, you can decide you get a proxy for every decade you’ve been in power. It didn’t matter. He could’ve appointed one for every day, and I still would have won.”
I swallowed sharply. This, I didn’t doubt.
“In any case, it didn’t matter. I killed the ten of them, then I killed the king before he could make up any other rules. Demos was bound to serve me as I had won the throne, but it didn’t mean he liked me. In time, we learned more about each other and developed respect, then friendship.”
I could see that. “Are there others?”
“Other friends? No, not particularly.”
Just two? “But you’re so good with people. I’ve seen you.” He moved easily through his kingdom, without the airs even minor aristocrats put on. And he’d had centuries to make them.
“Ruling isn’t just about being able to kill anyone who displeases you,” he said wryly.
“If people don’t know you, don’t care for you, they’ll resent you.
But while I may show them parts of myself, I can rarely offer anything as candid as friendship, nor do I want to.
By nature, I tend to keep my own confidence.
Letting others in . . . it’s not natural for me. ”
It sounded lonely.
It sounded painfully familiar. “I guess in that way we’re alike.
My mother thought true friendships were a weakness, a distraction.
I hardly spent any time with other children, so perhaps I never had the chance to discover if she was wrong.
” Amidst the backstabbing politics she navigated, there was no genuine trust. Only mutual blackmail or contempt.
“She didn’t let you play with other children?” The words were carefully neutral.
“Almost never. The only exception was my brother. Half brother,” I corrected.
I wasn’t used to mentioning him. “Sometimes we would have a little time, but not often. In any case, it doesn’t come naturally.
Greymere was no place for friends, but even in Damerel it feels impossible.
I watch Thea with others, and she makes it look so easy.
Easy to say the right thing, to make the right face. ”
“Just because you act friendly doesn’t make you friends,” he pointed out. “Thea keeps fewer friends than you think. But I believe she counts you among them.”
I smiled at that. “I’m lucky for that. But I still wish I could talk to others the way she does.”
“You’ve begun to talk to others. Even at court. Thea would be proud.”
“You noticed that?” He’d been busy presiding over the court, after all.
“I always notice you, little viper.”
I pushed the knife too fast against the grain, my grip slipping. The wood splintered, and a shard suddenly wedged into the pad of my finger.
“Let me.” His voice was rough, but his grip was gentle as he pulled my palm into his hand. The slight contact sent shivers down my spine, any pain from the splinter distant. Instead I felt the soft brush of his fingers, his palm bracing mine, while he pulled the splinter out.
In its wake, a single drop of red blood welled on the tip. Raphael froze, his hand still gripping mine. His jaw was tight, his shoulders stiff.
His emotions were leashed, but I saw the hunger. What surprised me most was it didn’t scare me. I recognized it now. Recognized he’d let me feed to ease mine over a dozen times now without ever pressuring me to reciprocate.
“Are you thirsty?” Does your throat ache like mine?
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He pulled his gaze from my finger, the puncture already sealing. But he didn’t let go.
“I know,” I said. As long as he didn’t know I was the necromancer, I believed him. “But that wasn’t what I asked.”
“I’m a vampire. Thirst is a part of that.” Did he sound a touch defensive?
“I haven’t seen you feed since we’ve been here.” Or even in Damerel. But we hadn’t shared quarters then. I’d assumed Raphael drank in the privacy of his own rooms, just like I had.
Was it as vile to him as to me? Or at least, it had seemed vile until I’d gotten used to drinking from him.
“That’s because I haven’t fed. At my age, I need little enough blood to sustain me.” In the distance, the fires had dwindled, only a few remaining. Smoke mixed with the salt on the breeze.
“But you are thirsty,” I pressed.
“There’s only one blood I crave. And I won’t take it.” Raphael finally let my hand drop. “Do you think you’ll always hate being a vampire?”
I blinked at the subject change. Even with the truth compulsion, I had to search for an honest answer. “If you asked me two weeks ago, I’d have said yes.” I’d always thought turning into a vampire would be a fate worse than death. That they represented every evil of the world.
I’d seen evil before. Seen it in the eyes of men who’d hurt me, in the cruelty that had raised me. I’d let myself believe it was worth enduring, to stay safe from worse threats—like vampires. There was a comfort to that. One I’d clung to for far too long.
As Raphael had pointed out—I wasn’t a victim in need of protection anymore. I could fight back, protect myself and others. I wanted that, even though it cost bloodstained currency.
Raphael let me gather my thoughts. “It’s not just this deal that changed my mind.
Maybe it helped. Maybe that was your plan all along.
To stop me from fighting this nature. But it’s also being here.
Outside, by the ocean, in a city where a dozen species I never even knew existed can celebrate together.
They don’t fear the vampires. I still . .
. I can’t understand the choices everyone makes.
The donors, the vampires who asked to be changed.
But perhaps not understanding means the fault lies with me instead. ”
It had been so clear when I’d studied the grimoire, preparing to leave Damerel and go to the Witch Kingdom.
Of course, that wouldn’t change the fact that I would eventually get caught. I scarcely understood the barest hint of the magic in my veins.
The vampires might coexist with voids, witches, shape-changers, and fae. But the necromancer? The one who could truly present a threat?
I’d still have to leave, I realized. Once the bond broke. It had been hard to sense before, but as it weakened, I knew it would be over soon. When we returned to Damerel, I would have to flee.
Despite whatever was between us this evening, whatever spell had been cast, I would still have to leave.
“Do you think you could learn to like it?” he asked.
Do you think you could learn to like me? I imagined him asking.
And Dolor impale me, I did. I liked the way he pushed me, liked the way he made me feel safe, liked the way he didn’t make me feel foolish when I’d been a fool so often.
I set the half-carved flute aside, leaning closer. I put his hand in mine. Because I liked the way it felt.
“I’m afraid of how much I already do.”
Raphael, who could run across a room in a blink, moved so slowly. So slowly as he tipped his head toward mine. If I’d still had a heart, it would be racing.
Then the sky exploded.