Chapter Ten #3
“Oh? What did you play, growing up in the Witch Kingdom?” a vampiress across the table asked, manicured brow arched. “From what I’ve heard, those uptight witches don’t know how to have any fun.” She smirked, the tip of her fang peeking out, still stained red from the blood she’d been sipping.
“They play games,” I said, the hair on the back of my neck prickling. I didn’t like her dismissive tone. “It’s only card games that are considered heretical.” Since enchanted cards were sacred. They were what separated the mortals from the monsters.
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “How many gambling halls have you stepped in before?”
Gods, her tone made me want to snarl. How dare she look down on the humans?
“None. How many humans have you killed?” The words flew from my lips before I could stop them.
The woman jerked back. “What? None!”
Liar.
I slapped a palm over my mouth. “I apologize. I don’t know why I said that.” And it was true. Yes, the woman had been a bit snooty, but that didn’t make her a killer.
Aren’t they all killers?
“Thank you for having me,” I stammered, pushing from my seat. “I’m going to go.”
“Sam—” Thea started.
I waved a hand at her and bolted for the door. “You stay! I can find my own way back.” Finding a way to tune into my necromancer powers be damned, I was making a fool of myself.
But as I stepped outside into the hallway, I realized I wouldn’t need to.
Raphael was here.
He looked… different. I’d never seen him like this.
He lounged in a chair, one leg crossed over the other as he faced the room.
He was dressed as the other patrons were, with tailored pants and an open-necked shirt, but it was obviously more expensive than anything the others wore.
A jacket hugged his shoulders, unbuttoned at his waist. A book sat in his lap, open, while he lazily thumbed the corner of a page.
It wasn’t the cold king, or the mercenary I’d traveled with.
Nor was it the slightly exasperated Raphael I’d gotten to know around Thea and Demos.
He looked utterly relaxed, but there was still a slight tension to his shoulders, the way he held his neck.
Was it as obvious to everyone as it was to me?
He wasn’t swarmed, as I might have expected. Of course, I’d never have expected to see him here—I could scarcely believe this was a spot Thea frequented. But of course, one underestimated the oracle at their own peril.
But no one approached him.
Except me.
I couldn’t say it was this fledgling bond that pulled me to him, as that would be a lie. After Thea, he was the closest thing to a friend I had. Even if things were strained, even if I knew we were enemies.
I moved in front of his chair. “You’ve been here this whole time?”
He tipped his head back at me. “Didn’t I tell you that with the fledgling bond you couldn’t go far?”
He had, but I’d thought perhaps the bond had weakened.
Or maybe I’d just wanted to believe that whatever was between us was weakening, because I had no idea what to do if it didn’t.
With the fact that if he found out my true nature, he would kill me, and with this bond there would be no hiding from him.
But the fact he had come here meant he had just been sitting here, with no idea how long he’d be stuck waiting for me.
“You didn’t come in.” A statement and a question at the same time.
If he’d known where we were, why keep his distance?
Though his subjects respected him, I’d seen him walk amongst them more easily than any nobility in Ulryne.
If there was room at the table for me and Thea, then surely they would have welcomed their king.
“I sensed you wanted some distance from me, especially after sparring. Was I wrong?”
I looked away. I had wanted distance. I’d wanted clarity to make sense of these new powers.
Instead of answering, I looked closer at his surroundings.
With a place so full of vampires, most sipped some form of blood brew or another, but there was no glass at Raphael’s side.
I didn’t smell any blood on him either, just his natural cedar scent.
Only now, with enhanced senses, his scent was no longer so simple.
A dozen other layers blended, complementing him, turning it unique and enticing.
I forced my attention away from waxing poetic about his scent while he stared at me, and thought about the lack of blood. He’d mentioned living for six hundred years before.
“How long? Until this thirst finally eases?”
Raphael shut the book and stood. “I take it you wish to leave.”
Yes, I’d come out of the gambling room because I intended to leave, but I wouldn’t let him ignore my question. Though vampires couldn’t lie, he’d once told me they were masters at deception. “A year?” I pressed. “A decade?”
He was close now, towering over me. I tipped my head back, gaze drifting from the column of his throat to his bloodred eyes.
“Little viper,” he sighed. “For you, it may never get better.”
And as he led me back to the castle, he would say no more.