Eight
DARREN
I ’m surprised to see Verity here. I had no idea she was a part of the Korama hierarchy. Her ferocity the night of the full moon should have alerted me to that–but I didn’t know much about the Korama Nobility at the time, and that knowledge hasn’t necessarily increased since then.
The Queen gave us direct orders to keep the wolves alive and unharmed. A few of her Vampyr contemporaries–especially Gabriel–weren’t thrilled about the arrangement. Even some of Lenore’s partners were rattled about the conference. But as per usual, la Reine prevailed, and here we are. I’m almost positive she used Zander and me as greeters and escorts on purpose–so if one of us died, it wouldn’t be any of her favoured ‘sons.’ Of course, she seems to have a soft spot for Zander, so maybe it is just me who is dispensable.
I’m still stunned she agreed to meet with the leader of the wolves and his second- and -third-in-command, but as Terry says, it’s never wise to question Lenore.
Verity approaches me, her heart thundering erratically, betraying her terror or adrenaline. I don’t know her well enough to discern which feeling she possesses, but based on her temper, I imagine it’s the latter.
I hold my hand out, leading her to the other end of the large common room. Being alone with a Korama wasn’t something I was eager to do, but maybe since I’m escorting Verity, she won’t do anything to hurt me.
Of course, that could all change. She can decide at any moment to cease any secret negotiations with me. She could end my life right here and now. I’m sure Paxton and Megsie would be able to finish off Zander by themselves. All three of them could be out of here in a matter of seconds.
We say nothing as we move to the farthest edge of the common room. According to Zander, Koramas can hear just as well as Vampyrs, and their senses are supremely heightened. He also mentioned that they’re no match for us in human form. Maybe that’s why Verity looks slightly less confident as I open one of the side doors leading to more private chambers and hallways. Perhaps she is frightened to be here.
The hallway is damp, with barely any light as we trudge along. The Queen’s chambers take up the entire fifth floor of this manor. I’m hoping we can get to our destination without any kind of disruptions.
“Are you leading me to some fucked up torture chamber, or what?” Verity breaks the silence by inquiring sharply.
I frown down at her. “No. I’m taking you to the Queen.”
She gives me an even glower. “After everything I did to you, d’you really think I believe that?”
“I don’t hold grudges,” I respond, though maybe that’s a lie. I do hold a grudge against the person who jumped me from behind after a run-of-the-mill Sociology of Deviant Behaviour night class. I do hold a grudge against Lenore for turning me without my consent.
Verity doesn’t look convinced. “All vamps hold grudges,” she persists.
“And Koramas,” I remind her.
She shrugs. “Gotta pass the time somehow.”
When one of the side doors opens, Verity snaps to attention, her brown eyes focused on the shadows before us. She widens her stance slightly, un-balling her fists at her sides.
I know the person–or, the Vampyr–coming toward us before I see him.
“It’s alright. It’s my friend, Terry,” I tell her.
Her eyes flit to mine for a brief moment before staring straight ahead. Terry is approaching, a new book in hand. From this distance, it looks like he has War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells.
“G’day, Darren,” he greets me, but I can tell his friendly demeanour is a bit forced. He must be on edge about the Koramas in the manor. Terry isn’t as discriminatory about the other two races as the rest of the Vampyrs here, but he values his life and the lives of those around him, so he is wary.
“Terry, this is Verity, the–” I look down at her for help.
“Kormo.” She rolls her eyes at me like I should have known that.
“Ah, the new hire,” Terry breathes, then clamps his mouth shut when Verity glowers at him.
I’ve heard some of what happened over the past few months. The Korama that was third-in-command was killed by a Vampyr raid to avenge a murder initiated by the Koramas–Benoit Crané. That set everything in motion. Shortly thereafter, I was turned, chosen to replace Benoit as the new Vampyr Prince. Because of the Kormo’s death, Verity was named successor.
I can’t help but think that if all those murders hadn’t occurred, none of this animosity–or aggression in general, between the three factions–would have taken place. Then again, I suppose that would also mean that I would have stayed dead when I was jumped by my unknown killer. That might have been preferable too. Then I’d never be plagued with the unending mystery regarding why I was murdered.
“I didn’t mean any disrespect,” Terry breaks me out of my pensive and maudlin reverie by assuring Verity. He scratches his salt-and-pepper brown hair with his free hand, expressing his anxiety.
Verity turns to me. “How much do you like this person?” she asks before turning to eye Terry again. He steps back from her, clutching his book to his chest. His blue eyes betray his terror.
Terry is a lover, not a fighter.
I move my arm in front of Verity–far enough away that I’m not in her personal space but insistent enough in my actions that she knows what I’m conveying without saying a word. She realizes Terry is one of the Vampyrs I mentioned during our run-in in the alley and relaxes.
Terry stares at me, open-mouthed. “Well, uh… Horoo, kids,” he bids us, walking around us, giving a wide breadth as he goes.
We continue down the hall.
“Maybe a list would be appropriate,” I murmur.
“Shut up,” she orders. “You expect me to be all sunshine and roses when I’m neck-deep in Vamp HQ?”
“While we’re on the subject,” I interject, “maybe we should remember the truce and not threaten Vampyric residents.”
“Boo-hoo,” she shoots back, brown eyes narrowed up at me. “It’s like breathing, alright?” she adds. “It’s hard to stop. You don’t get it, Princey.”
I sigh. “Would it be so hard to call me by my given name?”
“Why? You’re not human,” she counters, instantly causing my hackles to raise in the form of clenched fists at my sides.
“What about you?” I can’t help but bite back, abashed by what she threw at me as if it was nothing.
I’ve always been human. And suddenly, I’m not. The magnitude of that fact weighs heavily on me every day. When someone else points it out, it’s almost unbearable.
Verity’s brown eyes widen, but her reaction is quickly smothered by anger. “I’m still a fucking human, you moron,” she growls, fists clenched at her sides again.
We’ve stopped walking. We’re now entrenched in an interlocked stare. I’m not angry anymore, but perhaps I never was. I was just insistent, firm.
Verity, on the other hand, is all fury as she glares up at me, intimidating despite her small size.
“Well, I guess moron is a bit of an improvement,” I remark off-handedly, causing her to snicker.
The atmosphere in the thought-to-be-deserted hallway explodes when doors on either side of us burst open. In a flash, Gabriel and Pierre–the second-oldest ‘brother’ in Lenore’s chosen family–descend upon us like two fiery dragons ready to burn down a helpless village.
“What are you doing?” I yell, placing myself in front of Verity just as Gabriel leaps for her. He crashes into me, and I knock back into Verity, who collapses to the floor.
I don’t think Gabriel cares that I got in his way. Both hands are around my throat as I hear Verity scrambling to her feet somewhere behind us. Pierre, who’s more laissez faire about his princeship and following the rules, propels himself toward Verity, hazel eyes filled with vengeance.
I can see what they are doing. Pierre and Gabriel were close with Benoit. They see the Kormo replacement as a living representation of his death. As such, they’re ready to defy even the Queen to kill Verity.
Gabriel flings me upward and shoves me against the wall, my ears ringing from the impact. I slide down the brick helplessly as Gabriel uses his Vampyr speed to assist Pierre. Pierre has a hold on Verity’s throat. Verity is struggling, oval eyes full of anger as she snarls at Pierre, snapping her wolf teeth at him. But deep in her eyes is a feeling I’m familiar with: dread.
It’s the same feeling I had (other than shock, that is) when I was jumped and the world went black. It’s the same feeling I had when I awakened to harsh bright lights, strangers around me, and the uncontrollable thirst for something taboo and irresistible: blood.
I struggle to shake my disorientation at being thrown. Verity and I may be enemies by design, and she may despise me and everything I stand for, but she doesn’t deserve to die.
In a way, she and I are similar. Both dreading the end even though we don’t necessarily belong in our appropriate circles. Why else would Verity sink so low as to make a deal with me?
Pierre is beginning to twist Verity’s neck. Gabriel is holding her stomach as she kicks and screams.
In one swift motion, I grab Pierre from behind and snap his neck. I know such a maneuver won’t kill him–it’ll just cause him to drop. He’s disarmed, and that’s all that matters.
Pierre and I have been civil with one another up until now, but I’m sure intervening like this won’t win me any brownie points with either ‘brother.’
Verity kicks Gabriel in the chest, causing him to choke. His grip loosens, and she twists out of it, but he grabs her hair along the way and yanks her backward.
“Come here, petit loup!” he taunts as Verity growls something full of expletives.
“Get off of her, Gabriel!” I command. “You know the truce is in effect! This is a pointless venture!”
“Do you ever shut up?” Gabriel snaps at me as he places one hand on the side of Verity’s head and the other against her neck.
She’s going to die!
She’s going to die, and I’m not able to stop it. I’m lunging for them both, but I know I’m too late. Verity’s brown eyes land on mine, and for the first time, she truly looks helpless. No cursing, yelling, or defensive attacks. In fact, they scream, ‘I’m scared,’ a look I never thought she’d wear.
“Arrêtez!”
Gabriel drops her immediately. Verity collapses to the spotless tiled floor, choking. Gabriel steps over her carelessly like she’s a rotting animal carcass as I jump behind her to help her to her feet.
“I don’t need help!” she wheezes, elbowing my stomach, forcing herself up on her own. I stand beside her but make no move to assist her.
Lenore Crané is standing in front of us, her green eyes tearing strips off of Gabriel despite her silence. Terry is beside her, as are some other female Vampyrs from Lenore’s court.
“Merci, Terry,” Lenore tells him, causing him to nod and step to the side as Lenore descends upon Gabriel, who is now standing beside an unconscious Pierre.
“Va t’ant, Gabriel!” she commands. “I am so very disappointed in you!”
Gabriel actually rushes down the hall, which would have sparked a smile from me had I known there wouldn’t be any witnesses.
“Follow him!” she commands of her female comrades in French, who are quick to oblige.
Terry is already beside Pierre, slinging his upper half over his shoulder, likely carrying the second-oldest ‘brother’ to his chambers.
Verity is still struggling to breathe as the Queen approaches her. Despite her clear disadvantage, the Korama still manages to angle herself into a defensive position, her human brown eyes churning into an angry oval once more.
“No need to attack me, petite fille,” the Queen asserts, her sickly-sweet voice filling the now-deserted hall.
Lenore’s overly-sympathetic tone makes me question her true motives. However, there is no time for suspicion with the fast-approaching meeting and Verity clearly in distress. I mentally add this incident to the ever-growing list of attributes Lenore possesses that make me leery of trusting her.
“I am very sorry for my sons’ outburst. And you?” she asks, looking at me in a speculating sort of way. “Am I to assume you tried to stop this follie?”
I hesitate. “I tried,” I admit.
She is in front of me in a flash. I wince for impact, but she instead pats my cheek delicately.
“Merci bien, mon fils,” she tells me, letting go of me and turning her gaze to Verity. She smells of jasmine, and the air she carries with her is heavy with importance, her regal outfit notwithstanding.
“Well, I must go explain this unfortunate incident to le Korma et la Kormi,” she responds, breezing past us as if we are no longer of any consequence.
As soon as she closes the door behind her, I look down at Verity. “I didn’t know they’d–”
“They’re vamps. Of course they’d do that,” she interrupts, moving her tangled-up hair away from her shoulder. She’s gasping shallowly, as if it’s still difficult for her to breathe.
There’s silence as she straightens herself, acting as though nothing happened. She frowns at me.
“Okay. I guess you’ve now saved me twice–or, tried to .”
I frown back. “Is that a ‘thank you,’ Verity?”
She scoffs. “Never in a million years, Princey. Don’t think you’re so much better than me just because you say fancy words and can snap necks like twigs.”
I jerk my head back slightly. “I never said any of those things.”
“I’m sure you fucking imply them whenever you open your fat yap,” she shoots back. “But, fuck me, I guess I owe you.”
I fold my arms. “No. You don’t owe me anything.”
She cocks an eyebrow. “Seriously? You’re not gonna use this against me or something?”
“Why would I do that?” I sigh, somewhat exasperated by her never-ending defensiveness. “I’m trying to survive, just like you.”
She doesn’t look thrilled about this newfound similarity.
“Back the fuck off and let’s get to that meeting,” she orders as she glances up and down the hall, stealing into the zippered pocket of her leather jacket. She hands me a tiny piece of paper. I unfold it, revealing what I’m assuming is a phone number.
“Don’t make me regret this, Princey,” she mouths to me before marching away from me. I shove the paper into my pocket, following her down the now-eerily-quiet hallway.
I imagine it will be difficult for us to decode the secrets of this three-way war in-person, so I might have to get more used to being on my phone. There’s quite a lot more at stake–especially since my ‘older brothers’ will likely want to see my head rolling down the common room as recompense for me foiling their plans to kill the new Kormo.
Verity and I are several paces behind the Queen, but it’s not as if we missed much when we return to the common room. Zander and Terry are both holding onto an enraged Paxton. His partner, by contrast, is stoic and unmoving, but her aqua eyes are watching us evenly.
As soon as Paxton sees Verity, he calls for her sharply. Verity flies away from our side of the room and is to her Korma’s right in an instant. I note how quick and agile Koramas can be, even in human form.
Paxton glowers at the Queen. “Was this some kind of trick, Lenore?” he demands as Zander and Terry release him, probably assuming that he won’t make any sudden moves now that la Reine is in the vicinity.
Zander and I stare at one another in shock. Lenore is very strict about being addressed properly. Paxton stripping her of titles and accolades and merely calling her Lenore might be cause for an uproar. But instead of reacting, she continues her approach, calm as can be.
“Je suis désolée,” she tells him in a remorseful tone.
Once again, I am wary of Lenore’s sorrowful behaviour. Despite her orders to the contrary, I wonder if Lenore is truly upset about the attempted murder of the new Kormo. “I never intended for my sons to act so brutishly. Thankfully, one of them was able to uphold my decree of civility.”
She looks over at me and smiles. I nod but keep quiet. Zander is beside me, watching the three wolves. We’re probably thinking the same thing: it took two Vampyrs to hold down the Korma while in human form. Clearly, he is different from the rest.
Paxton stares down the Queen, assessing every word, judging every inch of her body language. Finally, his tensed-up shoulders slump ever so slightly. The Kormi beside him relaxes too.
“Fine.” He looks over at Verity. “Are you alright?” he asks.
She nods but doesn’t speak. Paxton looks over at his Kormi. “Megsie?”
“We’d like to continue with the meeting, as planned,” Megsie relays to la Reine. “Provided no other Vampyrs attempt to murder us.”
Lenore nods and gestures to the fireplace. The roaring fire, red carpet, and lounging chairs are a stark contrast to the theme of the afternoon. “Of course. I assure you, it will not happen again. No one will dare make a move against you while I am present.”
Zander and I begin to follow the Queen to the seating area, but she turns to look at us, halting our approach. “Please stay here, mes fils. Merci bien, Terry,” she proclaims.
Terry bows slightly to the Queen and begins his exit from the large common room while Zander and I remain in place. It's not as if we won’t be able to hear what they are discussing. This is likely a matter of rank: Lenore doesn’t want us close because we aren’t as important, and she wants to be seen as the true sovereign of the Vampyr faction in Vancouver. Each Queen in every city has this aura of prestige and power, according to Terry.
Zander and I take opposite positions, him gravitating parallel to the mantelpiece and me circling the width of the carpet. Lenore sits regally against the cushions of the three-seater. Paxton stands, placing a hand against the mantelpiece. Megsie and Verity take places in the leather chairs.
“Now, on to business,” Lenore commences.
Paxton nods. “I’m assuming you all received an invitation?”
Lenore smiles. “Tu as raison. One for me, and one for the rest of my family.”
Megsie wastes no time in asking, “Do you think this is a legitimate request for peace?”
Lenore tilts her head to the side, considering. I can’t see her entire face from this angle, but I question the depth of her knowledge. She seems to know a little bit about everything. Sometimes, that concerns me.
“I am unsure, Mademoiselle Silverman. It could very well be. I do not speak much with Andre unless it is necessary.”
Andre Calderone is the leader of the Magicena faction in Vancouver. I only know what Terry has told me about him. He specializes in elemental magic, but Magicena can have multiple talents–ancestral magic, necromancy, channelling, and the manipulation of Heavenly or Hellish auras. All of this terrifies me, so, admittedly, I ask as little about the coven as possible.
Paxton nods, but it’s a very calculated and infinitesimal reaction. I wouldn't have seen it had it not been for my enhanced vision. “And what do you plan to do about the party?” he queries.
“Well, I cannot resist a soirée or Italian cuisine. I will be in attendance. My family can attend if they wish.” Lenore glances at Zander, suddenly including him in the conversation. “Participerez-vous?”
I’m surprised la Reine addressed Zander so formally–especially after how she communicated with the Korma, with ‘tu’ instead of ‘vous.’ Maybe Lenore’s gesture to Zander is purposeful, for show. Either way, Zander doesn’t blink.
“A big party? You bet I’m going,” he enthuses, smiling grandly.
I catch Verity rolling her eyes at his exuberance.
Lenore glances at me. “Mon nouveau fils?”
I clear my throat. “I will be attending,” I agree. I didn’t think we had a choice in the matter. Is this another parlour trick?
“Bien.” Lenore glances at the three wolves. “I too am suspicious of il Sovrano. But if we do not attend, the coven might take that as a–how do you say?–une menace.”
Paxton folds his arms. “Well,” he begins, “I see that we are on the same page about the event.” He glances at Megsie, who nods. “We will attend,” Paxton relays to the Queen. “But we will be on our guard.”
“Moi, aussi,” la Reine concurs, standing now. “I apologize again for my sons. “?a va bien?” she asks of Verity.
Verity doesn’t say a word, but it’s clear she doesn’t understand.
“Are you alright?” I find myself translating.
Everyone turns to look at me.
“Diplomacy!” the Queen applauds, her red nails sparkling ominously against the firelight. Though she reacted positively to my insertion into the conversation, I wonder if I’ll be punished for intruding once the Koramas leave.
Verity turns her attention to Lenore, barely making eye contact with the Vampyr Queen. Her thundering heartbeat radiates in my ears. I ignore the saliva coursing at the back of my throat and instead focus on two things.
One, Verity is a person–not a snack for me to feast upon like a ravenous coyote.
And two, Verity is afraid of the Queen, regardless of her form. I recall her trepidation the night of my almost-assassination. Despite being fully shifted, Verity was frightened then, too.
“Yeah,” Verity answers, her murmur betraying her immense discomfort.
“Magnifique.”
Megsie rises from her chair. Verity follows suit.
“Well,” Megsie announces as Paxton circles the two girls. “We’ll take our leave. Thank you.”
Megsie glances down at Verity, who folds her arms and looks over at the Queen. “Thanks,” is all she says.
The Queen nods. “You are welcome. I hope to see you all at the party. And if I hear anything else, I will contact you.”
Paxton nods. “Wonderful. Merci,” he tries, to which the Queen nods contentedly.
As they begin to walk for the double doors, the Queen shoots Zander and I a look . We are quick to beat the three wolves to the doorway. Paxton looks unaffected by our Vampyr speed, but Megsie and Verity tense at his sides.
Zander opens the left door, and I follow with the right. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “We just wanted to be polite.”
Paxton nods. “No worries.”
Megsie looks unconvinced, even after her Korma has spoken. She finally regards us both in turn. “Thank you,” she says as we hold the doors wider for them to depart.
Verity is passing on my side again. She makes unexpected eye contact with me.
“Goodbye, Verity,” I bid her.
Paxton looks over at the two of us. Verity looks as though she’s biting back about five or six retorts and finally settles on, “Later.”