18. Unwanted Attention
DAMIEN
After I drive Eloise home, I shadow back to Night Haven before I can do something stupid and taste or touch her again. If our experience tonight has taught me anything, it’s that she could never be my mate. She’s too fragile. Too docile. But that doesn’t mean I can turn off my wanting her.
To keep myself from returning to her, I visit Marabella’s for the second time this week. I leave slightly sloshy from drinking as much human blood as my body can carry. Normally, I can go weeks on regular food, supplementing my diet with blood when I start to feel weak. But considering where I have to take Eloise when the sun sets again, I’m highly motivated to stay as nourished as possible.
I shouldn’t care. Whatever happens to the human, she’s brought it upon herself, commanding me as she did. Unfortunately, I’ve grown attached. Despite my promises to keep my distance, I’ve become obsessed with the woman. Even now, with my body so full of nourishment I couldn’t drink another sip, I spend the day dreaming of her blood, of her skin, of her smell. The temptation to taste her again is a constant gnawing sensation at the pit of my stomach, a dull ache, a lingering addiction. No blood will ever compare to hers.
I want to deny it, but it’s useless to try. Only by admitting it to myself will I break its hold over me.
The antidote is simple. I have to meet the terms of our agreement and get as far away from her as possible.
Which means, I must be prepared to defend and protect her. That won’t be easy, considering where I have to escort her tonight.
I”ve just left my apartment for the evening when two of the Queen’s Guard hail me from across the street, their crimson, black, and gold corded uniforms unmistakable. With a curse, I realize they’ve both seen me. No chance of smoking out of there. Nothing good ever comes from the queen, I know that well enough. I grit my teeth as they move in.
Both women bow. “Damien, the queen requests your presence at the palace. We’ve come to escort you.”
I scoff. “A request or a demand? I sent a letter explaining my situation. I am obligated to perform the terms of my curse tonight.”
“The queen has read your letter, which is why we’re here now. There is still time before full dark. She wishes to see you before you leave Night Haven for the evening.”
Biting my lip, I curse the day I attracted the queen’s attention but have no choice other than to comply. I follow the two guards to the palace, where I am searched for weapons before being led deeper into the fortress and left in a salon adorned in emerald green and gold. Gods, the pretentiousness of the room makes me itch. Portraits of past queens and consorts stare down at me from gilt frames mounted along the walls, some with the vampires they’ve turned to extend the bloodline. Gold and diamond chandeliers hang over richly upholstered furniture, shedding soft light that mimics the sun in a way that puts the fluorescent lamps in my apartment to shame. Leaded crystal vases overflow with flowers imported from topside.
I have an irrational impulse to break something. Even when I was a prince, I hated rooms like this. It’s too easy to see it for what it is, an attempt to use wealth to either intimidate or impress. In my case, maybe both.
Jangling metal to my right distracts me from my rogue thoughts, and I turn, bowing low when I recognize the queen. I’ve never met Valeska in person before, but I watched from the street during her coronation. Even if I hadn’t recognized her though, the crown of gold and rubies on her head is as good as a name tag.
“My queen.” She’s not my queen. She’s not even my species.
“Rise, Damien, and for this meeting, you may call me Valeska.”
I straighten, noticing the source of the sound I heard earlier. Her dress is made entirely of two-inch gold panels hooked together at their apex to a chainmail sheath, forming a body-skimming gown that clinks when she moves. I have to admit, the queen is as stunning as the rumors suggested, with wavy black hair and silky brown skin, red-tipped nails, and full lips. Her oversized eyes are as gold as her dress and put off their own light, a trait common to both shades and vampires.
“I’m honored,” I say, although I’m actually repulsed. As beautiful as the queen is, it’s impossible to forget that the same rumors that extol her allure claim she’s taken her throne by ruthlessly murdering the last queen and her consort. She holds ultimate power. One word from her and the vampires of Night Haven could be using my head as their soccer ball.
“You’re probably wondering why I asked you here.” She jingles to my side.
“I am.” I decide to get straight to the point. “I assume you received my letter. I regret that my curse precludes me from serving the throne directly.”
Her smile doesn’t falter, but her eyes narrow at the corners. “Right. The Gowdie curse. You’ve been bound to do the will of their bloodline for...”
“Almost four centuries.”
She clasps her hands together in front of her hips and glances up at the nearest portrait. “Shades such as you are exceedingly rare. At the last census, we knew of only three —yourself, Cassius Blackthorn, and Morpheus Maxilla.”
Both men are my friends, torn from our world by the same rift the witches used to capture me. Although I haven’t seen either of them in over six months, we share a lasting bond. “Yes. We are the only ones. The door to my world has been closed.”
“Pity. And now you are the only one left in our hive.”
My hackles rise at her use of the term hive. Covens have masters. The masters of covens that nest together in a common area often choose a queen with authority over disagreements between covens. Large nests develop shared armies to protect their vampires. Night Haven falls into that category. It is a large, multi-coven underground settlement. But a hive… a hive denotes multiple covens who have been conquered and assimilated, all reporting to the same queen with ultimate control and authority —a queen who replaces or eliminates the individual coven masters. A queen with ultimate control. It is a sign of her ambition to trot that word out, and it makes my skin prickle.
It”s my fellow shades I’m the most concerned about though. I would have felt along the shadows if either were hurt or killed, but not necessarily if they were captured or left Night Haven. “What happened to Cassius and Morpheus?”
“You haven’t heard.”
I shake my head. “As I mentioned, my time is not my own.”
“Right, right, you serve the Gowdies. Well, let me bring you up to speed. Cassius left for another coven in the Midwest for reasons unknown, and Morpheus has accepted a place in a triune topside, relinquishing his Night Haven citizenship.”
“I wasn’t aware.” Fuck. Becoming a triune requires trusting a witch and a shifter with one’s life, especially the witch who must perform the spell to bind the threesome. That type of bond is not something entered into lightly, especially not for a shade like me. It would mean giving up any hope of going home. I suspect Morpheus’s decision to accept the bond and Cassius’s decision to leave the coven has everything to do with Valeska’s rise to power.
The queen’s dress clinks as she moves around me. “You are the last of your kind in my kingdom. I must confess, Damien, I’ve never met a shade in person. Everything I know about them comes from books. They say our species are distantly related, vampires having evolved on Earth and shades evolving on?—”
“Tenebris.”
“Right. I’ve looked into the three of you. You tend to keep to yourselves.”
My jaw tightens. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“No.”
“The scribes tell me that the witches conjured the three of you from your realm during the European witch trials and that you sacrificed your freedom so that Cassius and Morpheus could escape.”
“Something like that.” The Gowdies had dragged three of us through the rift. I’d attacked, breaking the spell long enough for Cassius and Morpheus to flee. It wasn’t sacrifice though, but responsibility. They were warriors for my kingdom, ones I was sworn to protect as their prince. But I never intended to martyr myself. I intended to kill the bitch and go home.
It didn’t work out.
“Interesting. It is said that you carry the power of a demon within you, and that is why your heart continues to beat, unlike our kind. Is that true?”
I hide my laugh behind feigned interest in the art above me. “We’re not demons. Unlike your kind, we’re born alive and stay alive.” No one knows for sure what magic makes us immortal. Does any creature ultimately understand the origins of their species? Even humans haven’t closed the gaps on that puzzle.
The queen moves closer, fast enough I release a reflexive hiss as her hand lands on my chest. “Your heart does beat.” Her eyes widen. “And you are warm to the touch.”
“Yeah.” I gently grab her wrist and remove her frigid hands from me.
“Is it true you ride shadows?”
“Yes.”
“Show me.”
I reach out to a shadow behind the sofa and coax it to merge with mine. The moment they touch, I break apart and travel through a web of darkness, reforming on the other end of the room. The queen turns her head to look at me, and with a gentle motion of my fingers, I send another shadow, thin and razor sharp, whipping around her to slice across her throat. It”s just enough pressure to sting but not break the skin.
As expected, she jerks away from the curl of darkness.
It”s only a taste of what I can do, and I hope it unsettles her. Fear is something all vampires understand, and I prefer she fear me. Nothing good can come from garnering her interest in any other way.
“Fascinating,” she says through her teeth. A breath later, she’s beside me again, eyes flashing with a sort of greedy hunger. “And what about the reports that your blood can sustain a vampire? That you can subsist on vampire blood?”
I hate that look in her eye. Maybe I’ve approached this all wrong. I wanted to scare her, but the way she’s examining me is like a warlord inspecting a weapon. I play dumb. “I don’t know anything about that.”
She tilts her head. “Hmmm. You don’t know if that conjecture is true or not?”
“I’ve never fed from a vampire nor been fed upon.” I move away from her. “And I have no reason to test the theory.”
“I’m giving you a reason,” she snaps, eyes locked on my neck.
“No.”
“You would not deny your queen.” She snatches my wrist in an iron grip. I could break free, but her wrath is something I don’t wish to inspire. Not here.
“No,” I repeat.
“No. You willnot deny a direct command from your queen.”
“Are you giving that command?”
She draws my wrist to her mouth. “I am.” Before I can say another word, she strikes, and I’m reminded of why I only use willing donors at Marabella’s. The feel of her fangs in my skin is a violation. My shadows slip around her neck like a noose and tighten.
“I can’t control it, my queen,” I warn, although, in truth, it is my temper I can’t control. The shadows I can stop at any time. She lifts her mouth from my wrist, and the darkness releases her. I wrench my arm away before she can lick the wound closed and press my opposite palm to it instead. Blood dribbles on the marble floor. “My apologies. That is the first time anyone has attempted to feed on me. It’s unpleasant, and it seems I cannot control the reaction of my shadows.”
She runs a thumb across her bottom lip. “With practice.”
I shake my head.
But she’s watching me now as if I’m a prize she’s desperate to win. “How many Gowdie witches would have to die to free you from the candle’s curse?”
“All of them, and there are hundreds,” I say quickly. “Powerful witches with magic capable of controlling vampires like puppets. There’s a reason they were able to curse me, Valeska.”
“Hmm. I’ve heard.” She places a hand on her stomach, her covetous gaze scraping over me once more, and landing on my healing wrist. “What a shame. You are delicious. A consort like you would be the ultimate weapon.”
Dark ice fills my veins, and every molecule in my body urges me to leave that room. Never before have I been thankful for the Gowdie curse, but I am now. “Pity, it can never be,” I say dryly. “Now, I do have to go. I feel the candle’s draw even now, and the sun has set. I can’t delay.” I make a show of the shadows circling me.
“Pity.” She repeats with a sneer. “You are excused, shade.”
I twist into shadow and escape her presence, praying that she’ll choose a consort quickly and forget I ever existed.