Seven
VERITY
I ’m still shaking as I unlock and open the door to my house, the nighttime shadows camouflaging the red brick. Everything looks creepy and haunted to me now, even my own home. Fuck.
I was able to keep myself together while I was with the Vamp Prince (ugh, why didn’t I kill him when I had the chance?!), but as soon as I was alone, the trembling started.
What’s worse than an attempted rape from some random douchebag?
An attempted rape from some random douchebag who happens to be a Korama. One of my own.
And then there’s the fact that some preppy vamp jumped in and saved me! Saved me!
I try not to stomp up the steps so I don’t wake Briony, but I’m so mad at myself that it’s hard to stay quiet. I don’t know why I wasn’t able to fend this guy off. Being a Kormo should mean that I’m a little bit stronger than the average Korama in human form. Maybe it was the element of surprise. Maybe when he jumped me from behind and I slipped, that was the end of it.
I’d never admit this to anyone, but I was so scared of getting raped that my fear could have clouded my defenses. Even freakier, if the vamp hadn’t turned up when he did, that asshole would’ve–
I flinch, shutting my eyes as I open the door to my loft bedroom. I quickly turn to scan the stairs, squinting through the darkness.
I wasn’t followed.
My hands shake as I cross into my quiet bedroom, closing the door behind me. I brace my back against the wood, fingers trembling and sweat clinging to my back.
I survey my room in an attempt to push away my fear, confusion, and anger. I love the smaller set up and the large window against the wall housing the roof. I focus on the rain just starting to pelt the glass instead of the thoughts that are raging around inside of me.
I fucking owe that vamp.
Why did he do that for me?
Vampyrs don’t help Koramas. They’re soulless fuckfaces. There has to be a reason why he did it.
After everything Vampyrs have done to me, my family, and my pack, it’s really hard to accept that one of them actually did something for me that wasn’t life-ending or fucked-up.
What would Paxton or Megise–or the rest of them–say if they found out that the Vamp Prince saved me, killed a fellow Korama to do it, and then I let him go ?
I try to think of the big picture as I pull down the blinds, turn, and begin to yank off my clothes. This Vamp Prince doesn’t have the same kind of loyalty to his kind that most vamps do. He had no problem showing me the thing that blew the lid off the Vampyrs’ daywalking secret after all these years. If I can get a little closer, maybe I can figure out even more about them–and then I can walk home with an even bigger prize than the Prince’s head.
Wouldn’t my Korma and Kormi want more than just the Prince? The Queen and her higher-ups would be way more appealing than the just-turned rookie vamp. But at the same time, I’m afraid to tell them that. I’m not sure how to tell them I’ve struck a deal with the Prince.
But maybe that’s the thing.
I just don’t tell them. Not yet, anyway. I don’t have enough intel to do that yet. Once I can figure out more about the magic crap that makes those shitheads walk in the sun, then I can fill them in. The only problem is that I’m ignoring a direct order, AKA my initiation as Kormo. I can maybe get away with it for the next four weeks because of the full moon in March, but it’s not like I can dance around that for very long.
I can always break the deal and kill him once he stops being useful, I remind myself as I pull on shorts and a tank top, yanking my hair into a low ponytail. Getting ready for bed is almost impossible. My hands don’t feel like they even belong to me. I’m too rattled to brush my teeth or to look at my phone. I end up tossing it onto my bedside table and climbing into bed.
I’d like to say that sleep came quickly, but my dreams are filled with the terrors of the alley.
Monday morning hurts like a bitch.
I’m quick to shower and fucking repress what happened to me last night. What was supposed to be a late shift at work with a ton of tips turned into me almost getting ripped apart in the worst way possible. It colours everything I do–the shower, getting dressed, making coffee, pulling out the bar stool and sitting at the small island in our kitchen.
Briony knows something is wrong when she comes into the kitchen and sees me awake at 7 o’clock, drinking coffee. The caffeine isn’t what’s weird, it’s the time.
“Why are you awake?” she exclaims, looking like zombies are about to bust through the door. She was in the middle of pulling her hair elastic out of her red ponytail. Briony doesn’t like having her hair up, but we almost always have to do that because of our jobs.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I shrug as she marches to the Keurig and slips a pod into the machine.
“Still worked up about the Prince?” Briony asks, causing me to flinch. Thank God her back is to me so she doesn’t see, but since our Korama genes activated when we hit puberty at twelve, I know she senses my uneasiness.
“Yeah,” I admit. I’m not telling her the whole truth, which makes me feel even shittier than before.
I wish I could tell her about what happened to me last night, but if I do, that means I’d need to come clean about everything else, too. And the less Koramas that know about this, the better–especially if Paxton decides to axe me for this.
“You’ll get your chance in a few weeks.” Briony pulls out the stool next to me along the length of the island, drumming her fingernails against her hot mug. It’s pink with a unicorn–her favourite.
As Koramas, we’ve grown used to the full moon calendar. They happen every twenty-nine and-a-half days–on average, anyway. We pretty much run our lives on that routine. Most Koramas love the full moon. It’s the only time of the month when we can be our true selves. I guess for me, this usually special time is now going to be filled with a shit ton more responsibility.
“Yeah. You’re right,” is all I say. I can’t think of anything else. I chug my hot coffee like it’s going to make me talk and think like a normal person.
Mondays are slow at the tavern, even with the tourist trade bringing in hefty profits, so Briony and I are both off today. Briony usually makes plans for her days off–painting, nature hikes, shopping. I’m the opposite. I’ll sleep in (though I always seem to wake up more tired than before), have coffee, and do nothing. I guess that has to change now that I’m a Kormo.
Like it has some weird ESP or something, my phone vibrates on the island. It’s a message from Paxton.
Megsie and I want to meet with you at noon.
Well, fuck. They’re probably going to demote me, tell me what a failure I am.
Briony’s green eyes land on my phone. We’ve never had secrets from each other, so I don’t move an inch when she reads Paxton’s message upside down.
“It’s not your fault you were ambushed,” she reminds me. “The Prince was a sitting duck until he wasn’t. They’ll understand eventually.”
“I hope so.” I stare at my phone until the screen times out. I look back at Briony. “I swear I didn’t sense, hear, or see anything when I was in Vamp Territory. It doesn’t make sense.”
Briony nods, playing with a strand of her hair. “Sounds like they were really banking on a swoop. It’s kind of cruel, using the new guy as a pawn.”
I frown at her. “Don’t tell me you’re getting soft,” I warn her, though I’m the last one to be pointing fingers. I let the Prince live last night. But I have my reasons. I’m not about to feel sorry for him.
Briony rolls her eyes, a small smile on her face. “Has Hell frozen over this morning?” she shoots back, taking a sip of her coffee with milk and cinnamon.
I smirk as I take another swig of my coffee, but my grin disappears when I remember I need to message Paxton back. The last thing I need is to piss him off all over again.
I’ll be there. Your place?
I’m guessing he’ll want to meet in private. It’s not like I talk to everyone around here, but I’ve heard the whispering and have seen the staring over the weekend. I know the entire Korama faction is buzzing about my screw-up. They don’t think I’m up to the job.
No. Megsie’s. Don’t be late.
I mean, I’m not usually that late to things, especially when it comes to my Korma and Kormi. But I’m still in Paxton’s bad books, so I guess he’s riding my ass harder than usual.
Megsie’s apartment is always super-neat and bright. It gives me headaches. But now’s not the time to ask for a venue change.
“Well, with you at your meeting, I’ll get to blast my painting music without the comments from the peanut gallery.” Briony wiggles her eyebrows at me while I roll my eyes.
“I love sixties music as much as the next person, but seriously, Briony,” I whine. It feels good to do that–complain about the little things instead of worrying about the huge-ass stuff–but it doesn’t last long as a knock comes at the door.
Briony whips her head around. Our kitchen opens up to the hallway and then the foyer. “Are you expecting anyone?”
Based on her question, I know she isn’t.
“No,” I answer, fear gripping my body when I wonder if it’s another vamp ambush. But the fear is tossed aside and replaced with anger, vengeance.
I leap off the stool and march for the door.
“Verity!” Briony calls from behind me, on my heels.
She’s using my full name. She means business.
I slide the lock and rip open the door in a second. I’m ready to tear apart the intruder, protect Briony. She is my family–the only family I’ve got.
No one is there.
I’m quick to examine my surroundings. I don’t hear anything. This is crazy.
I spy an envelope on the doorstep. I swoop down to pick it up. Briony snatches it out of my hands.
“A courier-delivered letter?” she muses as she turns the cream-coloured object in her hand.
She’s right. And we didn’t sense any supernatural beings out here, so it must have been delivered by a human. Is that a relief? Hell no. In fact, it could spell more trouble.
“Suspicious,” I remark.
We both look over our front lawn. When we’re satisfied no one is watching us, we back inside and close the door.
Briony wastes no time. She rips into the envelope as soon as we’re back at the island. I stand beside her as she digs out the thick paper nestled inside the torn-apart envelope.
“The hell?” she comments–she must be upset because she doesn’t swear unless under stress–as she scans the cursive font with her eyes. “It’s an invitation.”
She places the card onto the island as I shove the envelope out of the way. We both read the note in silence.
Dear guest(s),
You are cordially invited to a Peace Party at the Casa di Calderone, 1927 Honeysuckle Way, on Wednesday, February Fourteenth, at 7 p.m.
Due to the recent attacks and deaths, we are hoping the three factions can come to a compromise. A treaty will be proposed. Please bring your dancing shoes: there will be food, drink, and merriment.
No RSVP is required. My sincere hope is to see you and to embark on a new era of peace.
Sincerely,
Andre Calderone
il Sovrano
Lochiel Coven
Briony and I are quiet. A pin drop or an eye blink would be super loud right now. Finally, Briony breaks the silence by picking up the invitation and bringing it closer to her face, like she’s trying to pick out some hidden meaning in the text.
“Is he for real?” she asks quietly.
“I smell a trap,” I theorize.
“You know il Sovrano. He’s not crafty like the Vampyr Queen. He’s upfront about everything.” Briony rereads the invitation. “I bet he’s serious.”
“The Queen would never go for a thing like that,” I remark. “If anyone shows up, it’ll be a bloodbath.”
Is this why Paxton and Megsie want to meet? Did they get the invitation before us?
Maybe I’m not in as much trouble as I thought.
But my luck isn’t that good.
Saying I’m nervous about meeting up with my Korma and Kormi would be a huge understatement. I’m standing in front of Megsie’s apartment door, the elevator doors closing behind me. This ritzy place is too much for me, but I come here often. The Cold Moon Pack often meets here or at Paxton’s place.
I know Paxton and Megsie can hear me out in the hallway, so I don’t linger like a fraidy cat. I suck in a quick breath and knock lightly on the door. It swings open almost instantly.
Whether or not Megsie is pissed is a mystery when she nods at me in greeting, opening the door wider. She has a damn good poker face. “Come in, Veri,” she invites.
I step inside, already feeling the severity of this meeting from standing in her doorway. “Thank you,” I respond, knowing I have to do a lot more than say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ to make up for what happened this past weekend.
Megsie’s two-bedroom apartment is neat and tidy as always. Paxton is sitting on the L-shaped couch in the open-space living room, waiting for us. His posture is stiff. His honey-brown eyes are trained on us. I’m quick to march over to the couch and two leather chairs placed around the TV that Megsie barely uses, not wanting to keep them waiting.
“Sit down, Verity,” he requests as I shove myself onto the leather chair without a word.
If anyone can call me by my full name, it’s my Korma and Kormi.
“We’ve got some disturbing news,” Paxton goes on as Megsie takes a seat beside him. “A veteran Korama was murdered last night, just outside The Azalea Tavern.”
My heart skips a beat. Hopefully they’ll just think it’s because I’m surprised–not because I know more about this than I should.
“Bodhi found him after locking up,” Paxton continues. Megsie scratches her temple, looking rattled instead of composed. Not a good sign. “He was almost totally drained of blood. Definitely a Vampyr attack.”
Oh, God. They know.
Of course they know! Signs of vamp attacks are way too obvious to miss. The only question here is if they know it was the Vamp Prince who did it.
Were there any witnesses? Was he followed or seen before he found me?
I’m gonna have to fucking cover for the Vamp Prince–which is sort of the same as covering for me , because they can’t know I let him live, that we’re working together.
“Did they catch the vamp?” I inquire, unsure if I should be asking questions right now.
Megsie shakes her head once. “No. Witnesses saw a Vampyr walking the streets around the same time as the murder, but he was keeping to himself. No one recognized him or his scent.”
That makes sense. No one knows the Prince. Only Paxton, Megsie, Briony, and I know his scent. Clearly, Paxton and Megsie haven’t gone to The Azalea Tavern since the attack, otherwise, they would’ve smelled him. That’s good, at least.
God, I can’t believe I’m hoping they don’t find out about him.
It’s just because I’m saving my own ass.
“He was over on Korama Territory at night, so we’re assuming he’s not a Daywalker. But if he’s a newbie vamp as we suspect, we don’t understand why he didn’t ravage the nightlife,” Paxton muses, wringing his hands together.
“We’re lucky there was only one fatality,” Megsie murmurs, “but Jaxon has been a loyal Korama for a long time. A lot of people will miss him.”
Not me. He was a sicko. And since he’s apparently loved by everyone, no one’s going to like me saying he tried to rape me. They’ll like it even less if I admit that the vamp swept in to help. It’s not like I like it much, either.
“Did you see anything?” Megsie asks me directly, her weary aqua eyes searching my face. “You were working late last night.”
Megsie’s observant. She catches any and every tell you can possibly have, even before you know you have one. I’ll have to choose my words carefully.
“No,” I murmur, feeling like complete shit for doing this to my Korma and Kormi. I’m still banking on my frantic heartbeat coming off as shock and anxiety, not as guilt. “I took out the garbage as normal and left. Bodhi said he’d lock up.”
At least that part isn’t a lie. I did take out the garbage because Bodhi told me he’d finish up the register stuff and lock up. The only thing I was dishonest about was the ‘as normal’ part. Another plus for me is the fact that, even if they do pick up my scent in the alley, they’ll know I was there to take out the trash.
When Megsie makes eye contact with Paxton, I think I’m a goner. “The vamp might get cocky–or sloppy–and attack again,” she muses. “We should increase security at the outer perimeter.”
Paxton glances over at me. “Well, Veri, if you want to make good, you can go out on patrol tonight.”
Is that all I have to do? Just stake out the outer perimeter and that’ll get me back into their good book? (Even though I probably don’t deserve to be there.)
“Sure. No worries,” I’m quick to agree.
“If you see more than one Vampyr, be sure to give the distress call,” Paxton warns me, bringing me back to the last full moon and my epic screw-up.
I nod in agreement.
Well, this is going way better than I thought.
“And then there’s the matter of this Truce Party farce.” Megsie leans forward in her seat, her blond waves falling over her shoulders.
“Briony and I got the invitation this morning,” I report.
“We think it’s a coup of some sort,” Paxton relays to me. “Even though the Magicena seem to be more civil with us than the Vampyrs, we think they’re luring everyone to their HQ on purpose.”
“But why lure both Vampyrs and Koramas for the sake of an ambush?” Megsie asks. “They’d be outnumbered and outmatched by two races, even without a full moon.”
Paxton turns to look at me. It takes me a minute to realize he wants to hear my take on this stupid party. I’m not used to people wanting to hear my opinion–and I’m still getting used to this Kormo thing. Basically, I had no clue he’d want to ask me about anything.
“I think it’s a trap too,” I admit.
Especially after I found out about that spelled bracelet last night.
But I can’t tell them about that. Not yet. I need to have much more than a weird theory to make them believe me. Besides, the Prince Vamp is pretty much at the bottom of the Vampyr Nobility Food Chain. I have to make sure he knows what he’s talking about before I just blab everything to my superiors.
Paxton glances at Megsie. I can tell from the look on his face that he’s going to say something big. I brace myself for impact.
“I think we need to call a meeting,” he proclaims.
“With the rest of the pack?” Megsie asks, moving her hair off her shoulder and digging her phone out of her leggings pocket. She’s dressed in workout gear. Maybe she’s got a break from work. It figures that Megsie would make use of her downtime for things like the gym and coordinating meet ups with the Cold Moon Pack. I don’t think she knows the meaning of the word ‘relax.’
“No.” Paxton stands up, running his hands through his dark, wavy hair. “With the Vampyr Queen.”
Every hair on my body is standing on end as Paxton, Megsie, and I cross the border into Vamp Territory. It’s Wednesday afternoon. It’s cloudy and dark out, to match the mood of this whole fucked-up meeting.
Apparently, previous Vamp Queens met with former Kormas at the manor for things like keeping the humans in the dark, and all grudges were put on hold (ha!). So I guess these things are done sometimes–but not often. And it’s not like Lenore likes to have us over for wine and cheese. Personally, I think this is a bad idea. But I’m only third-in-command, so I shut up about it.
Anyway, with the peace party a little more than a week away, Paxton wanted to meet with the Vampyr Queen in person to ask her about the event. No tricks. No vendettas. Nothing about my mission to kill the new Vamp Prince either. We’re supposed to go in there being all civil and ‘non-confrontational’ according to Megsie.
Paxton and Megsie look determined. I wonder how much stock they’ll put in this rendez-vous (to quote Megsie again) with the Queen, but I guess they know what they’re doing.
I don’t trust vamps. They’re all sneaky leeches. It still burns my chest that the Prince not only helped me out last weekend but is actually working with me too.
That’s another thing. I’m freaked something’s going to happen that will expose our temporary alliance. With each step I take with my Korma and Kormi, my paranoia about getting discovered gets stronger and stronger. But so long as I keep my mouth shut, nothing will happen.
Vamp HQ is a big-ass mansion with fountains, weird lights, and gardens. It doesn’t look like the hideout for undead creatures that slurp blood out of people. Still, it’s enemy territory. We need to be on our guard, even with an invite. This could be an ambush.
On the other hand, I doubt the Queen would lure us here with the intent to kill us off. She knows we’d tear apart her house and her minions before we were done for. Paxton must suspect this too, or else he wouldn’t have put Megsie and me in harm’s way.
Paxton straightens the collar of his white shirt. He’s a personal trainer at a gym on the same block as Niles’ practice. He almost always wears workout clothes. But today, he’s dressed up. Megsie is at his left, wearing a black pants suit with a low-cut white blouse. She looks really good.
I guess I didn’t get the ‘dress to impress’ memo. I’m wearing black leggings with a red tank and black leather jacket overtop, and black heeled boots. Well, at least I washed my hair.
Two guards are standing at the doors to the manor, arms folded and legs spread apart. Waiting for us.
Wait.
They’re not guards. They’re part of the nobility. I’m almost positive about that. And there’s something else.
I was so wrapped up in my paranoia that I wasn’t paying attention to the scents around here. The stench of vamp is sometimes hard to pick through. I’m sure Paxton and Megsie would lecture me about my feelings overtaking my senses like this, but anyway. The scent. It’s the Prince.
He’s standing to the left of someone else–another Prince, I’m sure of it.
I’m kind of confused as to why the Queen would put her precious Princes out front–what if we were the ones planning a surprise attack?–but these are likely underlings if Darren is here. Plus, she’s probably acting all high and mighty or even trying to look intimidating by putting out members of the nobility instead of foot soldiers.
I glance at Paxton, whose eyes are trained ahead, assessing the threat. Megsie’s aqua eyes catch my brown ones, giving me a steeled look.
Okay. I guess we’re doing this.
We get to the steps. That’s when the guy on my left moves. He’s young, Black, and muscular. I’m surprised by his appearance. It looks like, for a vamp, he’s an active guy.
“Hey, guys,” he greets us, causing Megsie and Paxton to share a look. “Welcome to Clair de Lune. I’m Zander Crané. This is my brother, Darren.” He holds his left hand out to the other Prince, who nods at us.
Paxton clears his throat. We’re all surprised that we got such a normal greeting from this vamp. Maybe it’s a trick.
“I’m Paxton Costas, the Korma. This is my Kormi, Megsie Silverman, and my new Kormo, Verity Eadaoin. We’re here to see the Queen.”
The vamp named Zander looks over at Darren, like it’s his turn to talk. Darren clears his throat, shifting slightly. “We’re here to escort you to the Queen’s designated meeting place,” he tells Paxton.
You better act like you don’t know me, dumbass! I think as his eyes drift from Paxton to Megsie to me. So far, nothing. Maybe he’s not as clueless as I thought. But I’m probably wrong about that.
Darren turns to open the doors, while Zander stays still and watches us. He’s calm and easygoing, but I’m sure he doesn’t want to turn his back on us. It’s the same for us. Paxton walks ahead and trots up the steps. Megsie and I turn, almost at the same time, ensuring Paxton isn’t getting ambushed. When we’re both satisfied, we jump up the steps behind him, flanking him on either side.
Zander and Darren hold the doors for us as we enter the building. I pass by Darren’s door. When he makes eye contact with me, he smiles–fucking smiles !–at me. I glare at him, hoping he doesn’t think I’m his buddy just because I didn’t chop his head off Sunday night.
The two Vampyrs split up as soon as we enter the manor. Zander is walking around Megsie. She doesn’t move a muscle, but her eyes follow him. He steps ahead of us and holds his arms out.
“This is it,” he tells us.
A large, fancy-looking common room makes his voice echo. A red-and-gold carpet and red chairs surrounding a big-ass fireplace on my right assault my eyes. This decorative shit makes my temples ache.
Darren walks to the side of us, arms folded. Maybe the Queen told them to keep an eye on us from the front and then from the side or back. Whatever. We can kill these loser Princes, easy, if it comes to that.
“Please have a seat in front of the fire,” Darren tells us. “We’ll go fetch the Queen.”
He wants us to stay here? I’m surprised. I thought they’d bring us to her. I guess she doesn’t want to show her hand by bringing us into her quarters , or whatever.
The roaring fire is a nice contrast to the damp cold outside from the rain we got overnight, but this whole place still gives me the creeps.
“Just a minute.”
Zander and Darren turn to look at Paxton.
“I want assurance this isn’t some kind of raid against us,” my Korma states, crossing his arms over his chest.
Megsie’s eyes dart from one vamp to the other. “I have a proposition,” she announces.
“What is it?” Zander asks, cool as a fucking cucumber. Unlike him, Darren seems nervous.
Great. If he’s shitting himself now, he’ll definitely crack under pressure when we investigate the shit that could take down all of us.
“One of you stays here, with us. We’ll send one of our own with the other Vampyr. Insurance,” Megsie suggests.
Zander and Darren glance at each other. Zander turns to face Paxton, who nods at Megsie’s proposal.
Zander shrugs, his brown eyes on Paxton. “Sure thing, Mr. Costas. Darren, buddy?” he asks.
Darren nods but he seems unhappy about the situation. “Of course,” he responds. “I’ll happily escort one of you to retrieve the Queen.”
Paxton looks at me. “Verity,” he states as if it’s not even a question.
I understand him picking me. Even though Paxton would go on his own, it’s a part of our culture to always protect the Korma. Megsie, as his second in command and the strongest other than him, is best suited to stay here in case of a blitz. As the newest member of the Korama Nobility and still getting out of the hole I dug for myself, I know it’s on me to go.
Megsie looks at me from around Paxton, her demeanour more relaxed–but only slightly. She must agree with her Korma.
I nod. “No problem,” I respond. I’m up to the task but am still worried about getting close to the Queen. She’s a bitch, but she still scares the shit out of me–not that I’d ever admit that to anyone.
Paxton holds his hand up as Darren approaches me. “If anything happens to my Kormo, I’ll leave this place with heads,” he tells the two vamps.
Zander laughs, but it’s strained and uneasy–the first time he shows us any kind of weakness. “Hey, no worries,” he responds warily. “Everyone here is under orders not to attack.” He regards the three of us before adding, “Plus, Darren and I would probably die in two seconds going up against either of you.”
Paxton rolls his eyes, but a smug smile spreads across his face. “Flattery will get you nowhere. But we’ll stand down,” he tells Zander, who drops his shoulders from their tensed-up position and approaches the Korma and Kormi.