Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
PARIS
Two royal guards gave me death stares when we arrived in Silvanus’s chambers.
Fuck them. I was too busy processing the smoke I’d seen billowing from the other side of the palace. Because of a missile attack, the ballroom, the target.
Because of Hal.
Because of executioners and vamp haters like me.
“The elf will remain here,” Silvanus told the guards. A stern tone if ever I’d heard one.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the two men agreed.
The door opened and Medusa in humanoid form stepped through. She beamed at me, though looked exhausted, her body covered in dirt and blood, her sleek hair a mess. Some of her emerald scales appeared damaged, peeling off her body.
“Hello, sugar.” She offered me a tired wave.
“Hi.” I waved back.
I also greeted the flora in the forest-themed room, thanking the sweeties for the boost.
Man, poor Medusa had been put through hell because of my people. And it stung. Really, really stung. There wasn’t one inch of joy in it.
The old me is slipping away…
Silvanus ordered the guards to fetch me some clothes, and they returned wielding blue jeans, a white T-shirt, a pair of gray trainers, and a black leather jacket.
The king commanded the men to place the clothes on his bed.
I noticed there was some underwear too.
“Wear these,” he told me without looking at me.
After wearing that purple outfit for a bit while being his thrall, he’d decided to let me dress in more comfortable attire. A uniform just for me, still stored in this building.
“Thanks,” I said, uneasy, praying I never went back to being a thrall again.
He wouldn’t do that to you now.
Silvanus ushered the guards out of the room, pausing by the door.
“Watch him for me,” he instructed his friend, his back turned.
“Will do,” she responded.
He left without glancing back.
I grabbed the clothes, showered quickly, then dressed, returning to Medusa. She was still standing in the same spot.
For long seconds, I stood there under the glow of the lanterns and fairy lights, feeling like I’d regressed. Like I was a thrall again, trapped in this room, unsure of my next moves and craving his blood.
Only, that wasn’t the case anymore. No more thrall blues, the cravings were for his body instead.
Scratch that.
More importantly, I had goals. An uncertain future, yeah, but a direction to strut in.
Glimmer City.
“Shall we hug?” Medusa suggested.
“I’d like that.”
We hugged it out, her body solid and comforting.
She patted my back. “What a night.”
“I’ll say.”
We broke the hug, both taking a pew side by side on Silvanus’s big bed. Silence followed, a little awkward, making my left foot bounce.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “For what happened to this place.”
I tried to say I knew it would happen, but fear slammed my mouth shut. It’d suck if things steered us in a hateful direction. I liked Medusa and didn’t want her to see me as the enemy. Although, she probably already did a smidge.
“None of it matters,” she answered. “Life isn’t exactly clear sailing, is it? We all make decisions based on what we think is right. Unless you have no moral compass.”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“Do me a favor, sugar,” she added. “Let’s not talk about this.”
“Are you sure?”
She touched one of her peeling scales, sucking air through gritted teeth.
“You okay?”
“Yes. Nothing a shift and a hunt in the gardens won’t cure,” she said. “As long as I stay in my snake form for twelve hours, I will heal.”
“Then you should totally go do that.”
“I’ll shift when Silvanus is back,” she rebutted. “He told me to watch you, so I’m watching you.”
“Oh.” I dipped my head, flexing my fingers.
“But we don’t have to sit here all down in the dumps. Let’s talk about something fun.”
Her jovial tone put a spring in my step. “Like what?”
“Like your obsession with caramel shortbread.”
I snorted with laughter. “Really?”
“Yep. Tell me what’s so great about it.”
Damn. My tastebuds were pining for the sugary wonder. “What’s to say other than it being awesome?”
“But why is it awesome?”
My belly rumbled. “I think it’s the caramel. Don’t get me wrong, the chocolate and the shortbread layers are super important. But the caramel is the star the rest of it hinges on.”
Damn. Was I drooling?
She nodded slowly. “Interesting. Do you make them yourself?”
“Nah. I’m a connoisseur, not a baker.”
She pulled off a scale, exposing a patch of raw flesh. “I’m not one for those types of foods. A carnivore through and through. But I can relate.”
“You can?”
“Rabbits.”
Gross.
“They are the perfect combination of fat and bone,” she rhapsodized. “A real treat for the tummy. Both sweet and savory, like devouring two meals at once. Absolute perfection.”
I mean, she was a snake. “Cool. Can’t say it’s for me, but power to you and your tastebuds. Wait. Do you have tastebuds?”
She turned herself sideways to face me. “Those bumps on your tongue?”
“Yeah.” I stuck my tongue out to show them off.
“No. I taste in a snake way.”
I slid my tongue back. “Thought so.”
Raking her hands through her hair, she said, “At least we’re not talking about the darkness outside this room.”
Only, her mentioning it allowed it to creep back in.
“Yeah,” I replied.
“What next?” she said, getting to her feet.
“I’m not sure.” Honestly, I wasn’t in the mood to talk. But what else was there to do? Sleep? Pfft. That wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. Ponder the details? There’d be plenty of time for that.
I got to my feet, stretching my arms above my head. “Is there a TV in this room?”
She bared her pearly whites at me. “Watch this.”
With three claps, a TV rose out of the floor at the foot of Silvanus’s bed.
“Ta dah!”
I clapped my hands together. “What a sight for sore eyes.”
All that time spent in this room and there was TV after all? Yeah, I loved reading the copious supply of books, but sometimes I needed a fix of screen time.
We climbed onto the bed, adjusting the plush pillows behind us.
The bed smelled of the king.
Yummy…
“What shall we watch?” she asked.
I had no idea where Medusa pulled the remote control from. She pointed it at the screen, bringing up a menu of various channels and streaming apps.
“Something funny,” I said.
She picked a sitcom called A Werewolf Walked Into A Bar…, now on its sixth season and still a riot.
“One of my faves,” I declared.
Pearl hated it. She thought it was unfunny and the main character a bore. But she still used to sit and watch it with me, never complaining too much. Sisterly loyalty in action, man.
And I’d seen her hide a chuckle several times.
You were such a secret fan, I thought out to her.
Sadness pinched me, but I booted it away. Grief took so much, leaving so much damage in its wake. It wouldn’t steal my love of this show or the happy memories I’d gained devouring episodes with my hate-watching twin.
“This is the best episode,” Medusa said.
She pushed play on the one where Karl, the main character, keeps trying to propose to his girlfriend, failing each time with one slapstick nightmare after another.
Should we be doing this within the wounded vampire palace?
Fuck it. Laughter was real medicine with real power to elevate your soul above the bullshit, even for a little while.
Why had Silvanus shone like that?
Halfway through the episode, I heard screaming, everything coming to a halt.
I shot upright, my heart leaping into my throat. “What was that?”
Medusa sat up too.
More screaming, voices calling out to each other. And it came from outside this room.
“What…what is that?”
“There’s no way out!” I heard a man cry.
Anxiety wringing my insides, I swung my legs off the bed, darting for the door.
“Don’t, Paris,” Medusa said, totally calm.
My hand curled around the doorhandle. “Don’t what?”
“Where are you?” a woman bellowed, sounding like it came from above me.
Laughter from the studio audience rang from the TV, my heartrate tripling.
“Are they trapped in the corridors?” I swallowed, a horrible idea coming to me.
No. Don’t go there.
Elio once warned me about the danger of getting lost in this palace.
“Yes,” she answered.
I pressed my forehead to the door. “Are they…are they…”
“Executioners,” she spoke gently.
With everything I’d been through, trying to fit round pegs into square holes, the executioner part of me yanked the door open. Pouring everything into my legs, I tore down the endless corridor until the ground trembled.
I froze, turning to see an onyx wall sealing off the way I’d just come, trapping me. Only those with clearance were able to navigate his maze, so I’d just shafted myself.
Whatever. I couldn’t stand the sound of fellow executioners being stuck here, doomed to starve to death.
“Hello?” a voice called from up ahead.
I started moving. “Who’s there?”
What am I doing?
A merman turned the corner, super metallic copper scales on his fair, beige skin.
Copper scales like her, the mermaid who—
“Are you Paris Raine?” he asked, hurrying toward me.
I came out of the brief stupor. “Yeah. I’m Paris.” I barely got the words out, my chest tangled with barbed vines.
“I’ve seen your picture.” He stopped a few feet away, bending over to catch his breath.
“I…” I shouldn’t be here.
The guy straightened, hands on his hips. “Phew. I think we’re trapped.” His forehead creased. “I am, anyway. What are you doing here?” He looked me up and down.
Once again, my mouth wouldn’t work.
“Did he put you here too?” he probed.
Took several deep breaths, hands balled into fists. “Shit.”
“Hey, don’t panic. We’ll get out of here.”
He came closer and I moved back, shaking my head. “There’s no way out.” Man, my voice was tight as fuck.
“What? That’s horseshit. There’s always a way out.” He summoned his stakeblade into his hand. “Even if I have to kill a thousand vampires in the process.” His grin would soon be lost when he realized he was screwed.
Dammit. I’d lost myself too. I was dragged here by the urge to save him, all of them. They were my people, like the vamps were the king’s. How could I watch TV while they starved to death? How could I do anything else until they were free?
I’m not doing it.
But what was the plan, then? To die with them?
Bollocks. I’d really shoved myself into a corner.