27. Serpents in the Dark
“ Y ou do realize that if your mother discovers you, she’ll have both your heads.”
“Father.” Adrian breathed a sigh of relief. “I did not think anyone saw us.”
“I see everything, Adrian, as you should well know.” The King lit a candle and met Adrian’s eyes. “I am very surprised you’d risk this with the Queen watching like a hawk.”
Adrian held Rose firmly behind him. “We were just heading back.”
“Of course you were.” Amusement laced Florian’s words as he tried to see around Adrian to Rose. “Come now, I’ve already caught you with your pants down. Introduce me to your flower.”
Adrian hesitated. Judging by the way Rose gripped his arm, she was afraid. She had good reason to be, and more than anything, he wanted to shelter her. But she took a tiny breath, soothed Larkin quietly, and then stepped beside him .
“Hello, Your Majesty,” she greeted, dipping into a very fine reverence. “I apologize for taking Prince Adrian from the ball.”
Adrian’s father laughed, studying her. “I do believe he’s the one who sent his guard to fetch you, my dear.”
Tension filled Adrian at Rose being scrutinized, even by his father. The blood still leaking from her neck tainted the air, as did the sex act they’d shared. The flaring of his father’s nostrils said he smelled it, and the possessiveness that overtook Adrian was staggering.
“She is exquisite,” the King whispered, taking a small step forward as his eyes raked over her, lingering on her ears, and then her eyes.
“Father.” Adrian stepped in front of Rose again as Larkin’s chest rumbled with a warning.
The King blinked, casting Larkin a puzzled look before zeroing in on Rose’s leaking bite. Pulling out his handkerchief, he offered it.
“You’re bleeding, my dear. It appears my son needs to learn some finesse.” His eyes flicked to Adrian. “You should seal that before returning to the ball. She smells . . .” He inhaled deeply.
“I know,” Adrian snapped, pulling out his own handkerchief to press to Rose’s neck. “You were not supposed to interrupt.”
His father cocked an eyebrow. “Tomorrow evening, first thing, we will have a meeting. I will have a breakfast prepared for your flower, and we will have a serious talk.”
“There is nothing to discuss. We are not ready for what you have in mind. Perhaps when we get back from Silvershade.”
Rose stiffened where she was running her fingers through Larkin’s mane and turned to him. “You are leaving?”
Adrian was not surprised she’d spoken, but his father stared at her audacity. “We,” he corrected. “We will take the journey together.”
Rose frowned. “I think that is very unwise. ”
“We will discuss later. We have been gone longer than is wise. Father and I will return. You stay here for an extra minute before taking Larkin back.”
“Agreed. Seal that bite and then come, Adrian.”
But he took Rose in his arms and kissed her mouth before lowering his head to her neck, where he licked her, cleaning the blood trail and sealing the deep punctures. He enjoyed the way she clutched his waist, her fingers flexing as she shivered. Another lick for fun had his father clearing his throat pointedly.
After one last kiss, he let her go.
Hours later, hours after the last guest left, Rose was finally allowed to retire. Everyone who’d worked the ball was exhausted. Instead of going to Prince Adrian’s chambers to sleep, however, she went to the quiet kitchens to retrieve the baskets Hattie had prepared for her. Making her way to the lower levels, she used lesser known, more dimly lit hallways.
In the first slave room, she was ambushed immediately upon entering. The slaves whispered reverently that she was there, and all gathered around for any piece of the food she’d brought. It was hard for her to maintain control, everyone desperate for any bit of nourishment. Recalling what that gnawing hunger felt like, she didn’t mind their pushiness.
It took mere seconds for her portions to diminish, and then she passed around flasks of water. There were some, always, who begged and cried for more. She promised to be back as soon as she could and told whoever could hear to be strong .
It broke her heart.
But she moved to the next, and then the next, offering what she had until everything was gone. If anyone came to her with injuries (which was more over time), she treated what she could, cleaning sores and applying ointment from a little purse on her shoulder. If she found anything looking ghastly, she’d talk to the doctors, but tonight it was only cuts and abrasions and raw hands from chemicals that she rinsed with water. The last young girl smiled in appreciation as her burn eased, and then she hugged Rose.
Tears still clogged Rose’s throat as she hurried back upstairs with Larkin the cat creeping around corners ahead of her. She returned everything to the kitchens, cleaning up as quietly as possible in the eerily calm hush after the Queen’s biggest event of the year.
Finally, with her bones aching and her head thudding dully, she made her way to her Prince’s apartments. Timothy and another vampire in similar leathers talked to two uniformed palace guards stationed in the hallway. All nodded to her as she passed.
Her Prince’s bedchamber was dark as pitch.
“Get naked and join me in bed.” The command from that bed, just as large and imposing as she recalled, gave her chills.
But she stripped as he said. Still sticky and gross once naked, she walked to where she thought the washbasin was. There was a low chuckle as she stubbed her toe on the bathing platform, and then a flame flared to life, her Prince lighting a candle on his bedside table.
“Better?”
“Yes, thank you.” Her Prince sat amid the pillows against his headboard, bare-chested with the blankets down at his waist, petting Larkin, the tabby cat, stretched out beside him .
The weight of his gaze was heavy as she wet a rag and washed herself. Once satisfied the champagne and dirt were gone, she climbed onto the bed. Prince Adrian opened his arm for her to cuddle.
Being tucked against him, her back to his front and his arms around her, made her heart leap for reasons she couldn’t fathom. The candle blown out, darkness surrounded her, and she sighed in comfort. With his cool against her and the softness of the mattress beneath her, the tension finally began to leave her muscles.
“Good girl for coming.” Prince Adrian pressed his face to her hair as he ran a hand down her side to settle on her hip. “Sweet dreams, my sweet Rose.”
Larkin moved to curl up on her pillow, purring deeply as he began to groom her with his scratchy tongue. A trickle of his magic lessened her pounding headache, and she released another tension-filled breath.
“Thank you, Ciel,” she whispered drowsily, giving him a long stroke from his head to his fluffy tail.
The thoughts fighting to be free finally pulled her under.
Fear made her heart race like a hummingbird’s, her breathing fast and shallow with it. Faint, weak, and dizzy, she hid her face in the strong familiar neck, her arms tight around him. The castle trembled and Leonidas stumbled. Recovering quickly, he ran on.
Why were they running?
Rose didn’t know, but the urgency pulsed heavy in the air .
All around them were the sounds of fighting—crashes, bangs, and the clash of swords. All around them were battle cries and yelling. Worse were the shrill screams, cries of terror, and sobs of despair.
Where was her family? Why was she alone with Leonidas? Who was fighting?
A thought niggled at her brain, a name, but disappeared like vapor in the wind.
Leonidas always kept her safe, but she longed for her mother’s reassuring smile, for her father’s strong hand holding hers. Even with everything else swirling inside her, she resented being sent away. Whatever her parents were doing, whoever the enemy they were battling, Rose could help.
They never let her.
Suddenly, everything stopped. All was silent and still. Left alone in the dark, soundless tears burned tracks down her face.
The predator, the one after her, was close.
She longed for Leonidas, for her knight, to protect her as he always had.
But he was not there . . .
She mourned him, not wanting to be alone, wanting him to be safe.
Why wasn’t he safe? Why wasn’t he with her?
She didn’t know. And it hurt . Her whole chest hurt.
She wasn’t strong enough on her own. She wasn’t strong like Leonidas, like Mother or Father or Theron or Tatiana.
The evil that wanted her was oily and dark, cloying and oppressing.
And smelled of blood.
Rose’s instincts screamed to run, but her trembling muscles wouldn’t unlock. Her body would not obey.
She sat, frozen and shaking, as her gaze darted to where she sensed the danger. Two glowing red embers appeared in the inky darkness.
Terror, true terror, gripped her heart in a fist of ice.
Vampire , her mind supplied. The enemy was vampire.
Darkly gleeful laughter that delighted in winning filled her senses as those shining rubies drew closer . . .