Chapter 15
Zane
My sudden appearance out of the shadows ripped surprised shouts from the guards and the exhausted pack of vampires about to be set free from their ordeal.
Even the tytoursus released an ursine huff.
I hid a flinch behind the flat stare I’d been practicing since I was thrown face-first into Sanguine politics.
Mathias paused his authority-filled speech, raising a brow in an unspoken command to explain myself. His attention drifted past me.
“I will be taking this one. Do as you wish with the rest,” I stated, gesturing toward Ilyana. Her expression caused me to do a double take. No wonder Mathias was staring. Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears. Unexpected spikes of emotion were magnets for the regent’s senses.
Well, she’d be crying a lot harder when I was done with her, if she survived the experience. I’d waited three days for an opportunity to question her. Ever since her magic had rippled through a crowded ballroom, she’d drawn my attention.
I didn’t state what I suspected of her, though the regent undoubtedly felt the hostile surge of my intent.
Ilyana’s attention shifted toward the red-haired vampire who was being herded away from the tytoursus by sword point. Most of the guards clustered in a defensive formation, stomping at and prodding the massive creature back toward the labyrinth.
“Don’t hurt him!” the vampire was shouting in a thick voice, reaching toward the growling monster.
Nearby, Razira, the white-haired vampiress, surveyed the scene impassively.
Now that we’d thinned the herd, I was expected to know the names of the greedy women who jockeyed for the throne.
Next to her stood Felicity, whose face was shadowed with exhaustion.
A concerned line formed between her brows.
On her knees beside the fallen form of a vampire, presumably her devotee, Emmeline covered her face. No tears streaked her skin. A sly glint of an eye peeked through her fingers at Mathias and me. Performative. Like all the other “Beloved.” She’ll have another man by her side tomorrow.
But not me. My heart was already spoken for. Even if I’d become the very creature my love hated most. If Aetherius was merciful, Sidney thought I was dead, not…worse than that. I yearned for my betrothed far more than any gentle ray of my god’s light.
“Lord Zane,” the regent said, calling my attention back from its wanderings. “Lady Ilyana is to face the Flask’s mercy. Step aside.”
The guards advanced a step. “Lord Mathias.” I echoed his imperious tone. “If we must resort to titles, that’s King Zane to you.”
A throaty gasp escaped Ilyana’s lips. The regent went rigid at the challenge, face darkening as he bared a hint of his fangs. “King-in-waiting,” he corrected.
I chuckled. It was so easy to rankle him from my admittedly unearned position of power.
We could’ve been friends, had Nemea not decided to insert me into a spot he’d politicked for.
She’d pushed him aside at the last minute in favor of a toy she preferred to play with more.
That I was completely unwilling only made it more fun for her.
“Lord Regent,” I responded with a smirk, then took hold of Ilyana’s arm. I pulled her away while I had the upper hand in this contest of wills. She went without a fuss, following me toward the portal Mathias and the rest of us had emerged from.
The regent called my name in frustration. He didn’t have the power to stop me.
Better luck sucking up to your next bloody queen. Bastard.
Our surroundings dissolved into darkness as Ilyana and I stepped through the ancient portal.
The world lurched into a gut-twisting plunge before it spat us out in one of the tunnels carved under the estate.
Such a shortcut was usually reserved for the queen alone, but Mathias had activated it and set it to open where he willed in the labyrinth with a glowing stone he’d since pocketed.
An expensive use of mage tech, keyed to a mechanism we barely understood how to use anymore. All for a petty show of power.
“This way.” I smiled down at Ilyana before catching myself.
The expression died as I tugged her away from the portal. Don’t be a fool. Some habits died hard, though. Unlike the friends I used to have, good human folk, no vampire deserved even a scrap of kindness. Especially not the candidates.
A hint of a returning smile faded from her face too. “Zane, wait. It’s me,” she said in an urgent whisper.
I ignored her, even though the lack of title was odd. Maybe we’d met before and I was forgetting. The so-called Beloveds had fawned over King Zane since the moment Nemea got what she deserved.
After I figured out how to condense my form into shadows with my newfound magic, I’d spent most of my life as invisible as possible.
All the better to avoid the vampiresses that pawed at me like they could stroke the unusually strong magic I’d manifested.
I was a rarity, a male with two abilities.
My control of shadows was more obvious, but I’d picked up the ability to sense the power of others, both in their veins and when they used it.
I wasn’t na?ve to what the vampiresses desired. They wanted me as a devotee to give them access to my power.
I led Ilyana to a storage room, complete with a reinforced door to hide the wealthiest of bloodsuckers through any threat.
The center of the room was full to its dome-shaped ceiling with boxes and satchels full of various goods.
I pushed her inside and latched the door behind us, sealing the outside world away with a twist of a metal wheel.
The heavy lock slid into place with a satisfying clunk.
Ilyana was already in motion when I turned back to her.
She had her hand outstretched, reaching for me.
My slayer training kicked in. In an instant, I had her by the throat and slammed her into the wall.
She choked on the first half of my name, eyes bulging.
Her dirty fingernails turned to claws digging into my wrist as I squeezed.
“Who are you?” I demanded. “Is that you, Nemea? Did you fake your death?”
Even as I said it, it sounded crazy to my own ears.
Still, I couldn’t deny that something about her reminded me too much of the late queen.
I’d constructed a theory and built a house of paranoia with it, threading my insecurities and fears between the bricks.
Every room within was haunted by the specter of agony brought on by Sidney’s grandmother and her glee at shutting me away from any hint of light.
What if the old queen hadn’t died at all?
She was bored and bat shit crazy, a caustic combination.
Maybe she wanted to prove herself a second time and eliminate several upstarts in the process.
If she was pretending to be someone else…
she’d cut her old mates loose somehow and appeared as a rogue vampiress.
The idea sounded impossible, yet the more I turned it over, the less it felt like madness and the more it felt like memory. Magic had a sensation you never forget if it scarred you deeply enough.
Here was Ilyana Krudelbach, young, Devotion-less. And somehow able to wield power that felt like the old queen’s magic. Maybe I was the only one who’d figured out her game early.
If it was truly Nemea here with me, I’d end her now. It was the least she deserved for what she’d done to me. To Sidney. To us and the future she’d ripped away at a callous whim.
“Show your true face!” Unchecked shadows swirled at the corners of the room, emerging from the rough-cut pits in the stone to dance to the tune of my fury.
I loosened my grip just enough for her to catch a breath. She stood on the tips of her toes, her ragged gasps turning into the cadence of shaky laughs. Tears finally leaked out of the corners of her eyes, tracing wetness around my thumb and forefinger.
“You always loved…your conspiracies,” she rasped.
I scowled at her, ready to close my fist again. “What?”
“We first met under a bridge. It was pouring rain,” she continued. Her throat bobbed against my palm as her gaze darted over my face. “I had nothing, just the clothes on my back. You took me to Aetherius’s temple.”
Confusion twisted my lips. I’d done that for a few kids, but never a Born vampiress.
We all were supposed to be in the carefree bloom of our youth, but for one reason or another, each of my friends had found themselves on the streets alone.
We’d gathered at the temple for the hope offered by Lord Aetherius.
I’d never heard my god’s name from another vampire before. Perhaps that was why I let her finish what she had to say.
“We trained together. They said only vampire slayers deserve to bathe in Lord Aetherius’s light.
” Ilyana sniffed, but she was already regaining her composure.
She spoke quickly, the words nearly falling over each other.
“It wasn’t necessarily what we wanted, but we needed a place to grow up.
You kept asking to train under Carlyle to do outreach for the poor. ”
I froze as my thoughts struggled to catch up with who this was, stating facts about my own life.
“And Dr. Hillman took me under her wing. You used to call me—”
“The smartest girl I’ve ever met,” I interrupted. My heart thudded so hard in my chest it was a wonder I didn’t vibrate with the force. It couldn’t be her.
She tried to form her usual wry smile, but it looked wrong on a face that didn’t belong to my betrothed. “I made a curative to prevent vampirism…but it failed you and…”
My world tilted on its axis. “Sidney,” I breathed.
“Zane.” She coated my name with months of longing.
I dropped my hand, and we collided in a desperate tangle, our mouths fusing together. One of her hands fisted in my hair, and she clutched me to her.