11. Chapter Eleven - Desiree
It’s late.
After what happened with Vyvyan and the Balam, sleep evades me.
I toss and turn in my coffin, the velvet lining clinging to my sweat-dampened skin as thoughts of Vane plague my mind.
Heat crawls down my neck as I relive my body’s reaction while Vyvyan drank my blood.
I wanted Vane so badly—craved his touch—and was ready to say, “ Fuck it ,” letting him take me right there in the dirt, with Vyvyan dying beside us.
It wasn’t me.
Whatever I am still feeling is the result of the blood-sharing.
I don’t want Vane—not after how he treats me.
How could I when he’s the reason I lost Misty?
Vyvyan doesn’t want me either, but she is stuck with me.
My blood binds me to her.
When she heals, she will sense every emotion I express.
If I had her blood, I’d feel just how much she hates me—viscerally, not mentally.
With a groan, I push the lid of my coffin open.
It squeals on ancient hinges.
Beside me, Misty’s coffin lies empty, and so do dozens of others.
She and many other vampires are not back from the club yet.
Misty and I haven’t talked since everything went down in Vyvyan’s room.
I was giving her space, but now it gapes like a trench.
I pull a sweatshirt over my tiny tank and sleep shorts before creeping into the hall to catch her on her way back.
It’s barely past sunrise, but we close the club at dawn.
I wait in the hallway, my gaze shifting each time someone walks past me.
A restless energy has me pacing back and forth.
After what feels like an eternity, Misty’s familiar laughter bounces off the walls.
She appears around the corner, walking with her sire, Zev.
They speak in hushed tones.
Whatever he’s saying is meant only for her ears—a private bond between sire and progeny that twists my stomach with envy.
I’ll never experience that kind of connection.
“Misty,” I call, my voice small with uncertainty.
The laughter leaves her eyes.
“Can we talk?”
Misty folds her arms across her chest.
Her brocade corset, pleated leather skirt, and boots give off a sinful schoolgirl look that probably had the Little Death clientele pining for her attention.
“I’m talking to Zev.”
I offer Zev an apologetic look.
“It’s important.”
Misty scoffs, but Zev steps in to say, “It’s okay, Misty. I’m tired anyway.” My heart swells with gratitude toward him, even though he’s probably just helping me because he owes my brother for helping him stay in contact with his wife.
He must know I lied about Vane siring me.
Misty told everyone.
As soon as he’s gone, I say, “Vane means nothing to me,” but the words taste like ash.
Misty tucks a scarlet ringlet behind her ear.
She is hopeless with an iron, which means she asked someone other than me to help her get ready last night.
“Well, that makes sense since you have Jaxson.”
Even though Jaxson and I are in limbo, I nod.
He’s had ample opportunity to ask me out since learning I faked my death, but he hasn’t, and I don’t know what that means.
I’m not even sure how I feel about it.
Should vampires and witches even date?
“You’re right. I have Jaxson,” I say anyway.
“You’re a terrible friend and a worse liar,” Misty snaps.
“You never wanted me to be with Vane. Is that why Jaxson dumped you? Because you’re a lying, cheating whore?”
I back up a step, blood singing in my veins.
“Cheating? I never cheated on Jaxson.”
“How am I supposed to know that?” she asks with a bite to her words.
Misty is projecting what happened to her onto me.
“You’ve been lying to me since we met.”
“But not about that.”
Misty laughs, the sound harsh and grating.
“Too late. You’ve squandered my trust.”
“No, you don’t understand. Vyvyan ord?—”
“Is everything okay here, Misty?” A group of vampires returning from Little Death slide accusing gazes over me like slippery serpents.
“We are fine,” I choke out, but Misty approaches them.
“No, Desiree and I are finished.”
My heart shatters into a thousand tiny shards.
Her words have a subtext, a finality that goes beyond this moment.
She means in more ways than one, and how the others gaze upon me with disgust, they are done with me, too.
I am cast out like last year’s style.
“Come on, let’s go,” Misty says.
They leave me in the hall with my jaw on the floor.
I consider charging after them to plead my case, but they won’t listen to me.
They will, however, listen to Vyvyan.
Turning on my heel, I charge down the hallway, my bare feet slapping against stone.
Fingering the tiny scars on my neck, I knock on Queen Vyvyan’s door, the sound too loud in the morning stillness.
She doesn’t answer, and I am positive she is asleep, but I advised Vane to watch over her and told him I would check on her.
“Open the fucking door, Vane. It’s Desiree, and you have three seconds?—”
The door flies open, revealing a disgruntled Vane.
His usually artfully tousled white-blond hair is a mess, and his perfect clothes from Equinox Park are still bloody and muddy.
“Desiree, now isn’t a good time,” he murmurs.
But I am finished with him and Vyvyan dictating my life.
“We need to talk. Misty and the others?—”
“Is that her?” Vyvyan calls, her voice weak and thready.
Vane stiffens.
“Vyvyan, it’s Desiree. We need to talk!”
“Let her in, Vane.”
When Vane clenches his jaw, a muscle ticks in his cheek.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Desiree.”
I push past him, muttering to myself that he is a controlling bastard, then stop dead in my tracks.
Vyvyan’s room looks like a hurricane tore through it.
All her luxurious belongings are strewn about.
The plush carpet and silk sheets are a ripped casualty of the chaos.
Blood seeps into the ancient rug from the shattered bar cart and decanter, the coppery scent filling the air.
But that’s not the worst of it.
Not by a long shot.
Vyvyan stands across the room in her silk sleep dress with one strap falling off her sculpted shoulder while she uses her other arm to clutch a bedpost for dear life.
Sweat dampens her dark skin.
“Come to finish the job?” Vyvyan taunts.
Her brown—not red—eyes narrow.
“Y-you’re human?”
“No shit. You made me this way.”
The world tilts on its axis, threatening to send me spiraling into an abyss.
“Is this your idea of a joke?” I ask, my legs giving out like a newborn fawn’s.
Vane catches me, but his hold feels like a noose.
I push at him to release me.
“How is she human?” I gasp, my voice barely above a whisper as my vision blurs.
Vyvyan glares at me.
“You tell me!”
“M-me?” I shake my head.
There’s no way.
Vampires share blood during consort ceremonies all the time.
It tethers two vampires together and symbolizes marriage.
I’ve never heard of anyone turning their mate human.
“Your blood cursed me,” Vyvyan snarls.
I squeeze Vane’s arm.
“I don’t understand. How? What is wrong with me?”
Vane shushes me, but I barely notice.
My blood turned Vyvyan human.
It’s unthinkable.
I’m an abomination—a vampire with the power to unmake vampires.
I almost laugh.
My mom is searching for a cure, and I am one.
“Turn her back,” I say to Vane, my voice shaking.
“We already tried,” he says at the same time Vyvyan orders, “Kill her.”
“What? Why?” I cry out.
Vane’s stare darkens with emotions I can’t quite decipher.
“Your blood is a blight against our kind. We need to get rid of you before the witches find out what you can do,” Vyvyan says.
“They will use you against us. The ultimate weapon.”
I jerk out of Vane’s hold, stumbling into the overturned settee.
My heart beats so hard I might pass out.
I’m going to die, my life snuffed out by the very people I thought were my family.
“Please, you’re not thinking clearly,” I beg, but Vyvyan silences me with a sharp look.
A sob escapes my throat.
There must be an explanation.
“I couldn’t have done this. I’m a vampire. I have no magic.”
“You must’ve maintained the ability to heal, Desi,” Vane comments, merely watching as tears slide down my cheeks.
Most vampires don’t maintain any magical abilities after they turn, but somehow, like Vane, I did.
I don’t have covetable powers like him, and my abilities will alienate me.
“Give it time,” I whisper.
“My blood must be working through your system. You won’t turn back until you’ve digested it.”
Vyvyan and Vane exchange guarded glances.
“How long?” Vane questions.
“It depends on how fast she metabolizes it.”
“Give me a number!” Vyvyan roars.
I flinch.
“It takes thirty-six hours for food to pass through the body. But since it’s magic, let’s make it a week, at least.”
I’m buying time, and they know it.
Vyvyan turns away, jaw clenched tight.
“I still think you should die.”
Vane shrugs, and nausea threatens to overwhelm me.
“What if we banish her instead?” Vane asks.
Banishment.
A fate worse than death.
Vampires need companionship to survive.
The Nest is the first place I’ve felt accepted.
If I leave, I may never find that again.
“There’s a chance she’ll tell,” Vyvyan says.
“Let me help you,” I blurt out.
“I’ll find out who sent the Balam while you heal. Vane will lead in your stead. During that time, I’ll monitor your progress, and if nothing changes in a week, you can decide if I am still a liability.”
Vyvyan considers me.
“Witches are practiced liars. No one will admit they summoned Balam to kill me. It is obvious they mean to destroy our alliance.”
My head falls sideways.
I’m not convinced the witches sent the Balam.
The paw print signature points to the wolves.
But I’m not about to freak Vyvyan out.
If wolves are in Corona, I will find them.
“I’m friends with witches. You said it yourself. I am connected to them, whether you like it or not.” My heart is lodged in my throat.
“I will find out who did this.”
“She can help, Vyv,” Vane admits.
I balk.
I expected him to insist Vyvyan banish me.
Now that everyone knows he is my sire, I am sure he isn’t pleased about the unwanted attention.
Vyvyan hesitates, then nods.
“Fine. But not a word of this investigation to anyone, or there will be hell to pay. If the witches sent Balam to kill me, they’ll only try again while I am in this weakened state.”
Vane nods.
“Desiree is good at keeping quiet.”
“She’s good at causing a ruckus,” Vyvyan states.
She reaches for Vane.
“Now, help me to bed. I am tired.”
As Vane helps Vyvyan to bed, suspicion gnaws at me.
With Vyvyan gone, Vane stands to gain the vampire kingdom, yet he’s never shown an interest in the throne.
Then again, he never told me much about his aspirations or past.
Could his devotion to Vyvyan have all be an act, just like it was with me?