Chapter 2 To the Palace #2
Smiling a little, I started sharpening a kukri in slow, methodical strokes.
Not because it was dull, just for the sound.
The rhythmic scrape of metal on whetstone filled the room.
Swish-two-three, turn-four-five-six. My version of meditation.
Or maybe just not flipping a table. The blade had tasted more blood tonight than I’d expected, but still not enough to quiet the storm inside me.
Which was why my own ritual came after the blades were done. One snack pack of cookies for a win. Two for a hard fight. A whole bag of chocolate chunk when things went FUBAR, just to fill the hollow. Cookies were cookies. They didn’t fix anything. But they were sweet and good and mine.
They didn’t mean anything. And they meant everything.
Which was why Zane kept getting his ass handed to him when he tried to steal them.
“Hey, hey! I actually found a joint open at the ass-crack of dawn!” he crowed suddenly. “Ordered three larges and wings. Something greasy and glorious to fill the empty pit in my stomach.” His whiskey eyes darted to me. “One of these days, that blade’s going to bite you, Koala Bear.”
“She loves me too much for that.” I ran my thumb lightly along the spine of the dagger I was cleaning. She was my favorite and had been with me for four years now, ever since that job in Nepal. Three hundred strokes in, her edge could’ve split moonlight.
We were deep into our usual post-job routine: Cas dismantling and inspecting each piece of gear, me sharpening every edged weapon I could find, and Zane impatiently waiting for food.
The familiarity of it should have been comforting, but tonight it felt like we were just going through the motions.
Like we were stuck in a loop that would keep cycling until something broke it.
Then Cas’ phone buzzed.
I ignored it at first, focusing on the throwing star in my hands. Probably the client, wanting an update. Or Sebastian checking in on us. Our older half-brother was the only member of the vampire court that we liked.
Then more buzzes. Three short, two long.
Cas went statue-still, a firing pin frozen mid-rotation, Zane’s joke about vibrator settings shriveled on his tongue, and I threw the star into the wall with a satisfying thwunk. We all knew that pattern.
Noctem maledicta. All that good meditation I just did, now gone right to shit.
“Tell him we’re dead,” I snapped.
“You first.” Cas stared at the glowing screen like it might detonate.
Zane snatched the device, thumbs flying.
“How’s this: ‘Regretfully unable to attend.’ ”
The floor creaked as I loomed above him, my shadow swallowing the screen’s blue glare, and he very carefully handed the phone back to Cas.
“Presence required immediately,” Cas read the text aloud.
I gritted my teeth as we exchanged looks. The vampire king didn’t just call. If Lucian Ro?u, aka our father, summoned us, it meant something big. Or something bad. Probably both.
I hated it. Hated that he could just summon us like servants.
Hated the way our biological father could just reach out and yank our strings like we were his personal puppets.
Every muscle in my body tensed at the thought of seeing him, of having to stand in that palace and act like I didn’t want to tear his throat out.
Not that I could; he was too powerful, too ancient, too untouchable.
That didn’t stop me from imagining it, though.
Casimir was already on his feet, slinging on his leather jacket. He probably didn’t even realize he was rubbing his knuckle between his eyes.
Zane decided it was up to him to relieve the tension, apparently.
“Yo, Ko? You ever think maybe the old man’s just lonely? Like, maybe he’s out there in that big ol’ palace, just summoning us because he’s got nothing better to do?”
“No, I don’t think that.”
“Neither do I.” Cas checked his weapons before holstering them. Always prepared, always ready for the worst. It was what kept us alive.
I didn’t speak again as I gathered my own gear.
What was there to say? That I’d rather face down a horde of dire rats with nothing but my bare hands than spend five minutes in our father’s presence?
That every time I saw him, I remembered how he’d trained us, beaten us, broken us, remade us into the perfect weapons?
That I still hated closed spaces from the time he’d locked me in a coffin for five hours to “teach me patience”?
That I’d never forgive or forget him skipping Mom’s funeral—
A knock sounded at the door.
“Pizza’s here!” Zane bellowed, leaping up and stomping back into his boots.
The delivery guy barely got a thanks before Zane grabbed the boxes and soda, balancing them on one arm and grabbing his jacket.
“I sure as hell ain’t leaving these babies behind.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Field trip. We’ll eat on the way.”
Cas sighed, but didn’t argue, and I was already halfway out to the SUV.
Resentment filled my mouth, more potent than any monster’s blood.
I climbed into the driver’s seat without asking, knowing neither of my brothers would fight me for it.
They knew I needed the control right now, the feeling of having my hands on the wheel, directing something in my life even if it was just our route to the palace.
Cas slid into the passenger seat, his face a mask of calm that didn’t fool me for a second. Zane sprawled in the back with the pizzas, already digging into one and passing Cas the other two.
“Hey, at least we might get to see Seb,” Zane offered through a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni.
I grunted in response, not trusting myself to speak.
Sebastian was different. He was Lucian’s only legitimate son, the crown prince, but he’d never looked down on us.
Never treated us like the mistakes, the half-breeds, the bastards everyone else at court saw.
If anything, he’d protected us when we were kids, getting us out of punishments when he could and sneaking us apology treats when he couldn’t.
But not even a visit with Seb could make a summons from our sperm donor palatable.
“You know,” Zane leaned forward, “we could just not go.”
“Ignore a direct, personal summons from the vampire king,” I deadpanned. “Z, you may want to high-five death today, but I don’t.”
Even if we did skip out, Lucian would find us in the end. He always did. And then everything got worse.
“Let’s just get it over with,” Cas muttered, staring out the window at the pink and gold sky.
I turned the key, and the engine roared to life.
Something cold and determined settled in my chest, a hardness I recognized all too well.
Whatever Lucian wanted, whatever new use he’d found for us, I’d protect my brothers.
Cas had always been the shield, the wall, the one who took the hits so Z and I didn’t have to, but I wasn’t that soft little boy anymore.
I’d become the earthquake no one could survive, and Lucian would have to go through me before he ever hurt them again.
I pulled away from the curb with more force than necessary, tires screeching slightly on the pavement. Beside me, Cas tensed in disapproval, but only handed me two slices folded together. Pepperoni, mushroom, and onion. My favorite, dammit.
“Mahalo,” I grunted as I one-handed it.
“Just wanted you to enjoy your last meal, baby bro!” Zane crowed from the back seat.
Baby bro. I rolled my eyes. I was exactly four weeks younger than him, and nine weeks younger than Cas, yet that’s what they both called me. Moon-damned brats.
When Zane keyed up his road-trip playlist, Cas and I groaned in sync. I made it through three Disney villain songs before I crushed his phone on verse three of “Be Prepared.”