Chapter Thirty
Samara
When I emerged from the bathroom, Raphael looked at me like he could see the extra red tint beneath the cosmetic I’d applied after I’d scrubbed my lips raw—trying to erase the tinge of his blood because I couldn’t stop licking to taste it.
“Where to today?” I’d been too tired by the end of the evening to ask for the itinerary of the next day.
“I have a meeting with the king.”
“When do we leave?” I hadn’t thought to bring a change of clothing into the room, so I crossed into the bedroom to look through the outfits that had been prepared. Which would be appropriate to meet with the elusive king?
Raphael followed me into the bedroom, hand coming to the top of the wardrobe, where he looked from me to the dresses. “I’ll be taking this meeting alone.”
“But… the fledgling bond.” I gestured between the two of us like there was a visible string. As much as I hated spending almost every minute with Raphael, I didn’t relish the excruciating pain that came about when we separated.
“I’ll still be in the palace. Given your ability to wake up before the sun since being here, it’s possible the range has relaxed,” he assured me.
And perhaps because I’d just had some of his blood. It would be a test, at least. As happy as I would be to believe I could bear a larger distance, the answer being drink more of Raphael’s blood was about as appealing as the answer being set myself on fire.
Even now I felt the effects. Despite the sudden start to the day, I felt more awake. My muscles were relaxed, as if I was comfortable in this strange body for once.
The trouble was that even now I wanted to drink more. It wasn’t the painful ache I was used to, though, it was more like craving a spoonful of pudding after finishing supper.
I don’t need it. I shouldn’t want it.
But I did want it, and the deal we’d made meant I wasn’t going to fight against those wants.
“If you feel any distress, send it to me and I’ll return immediately,” Raphael continued.
Relax the shields I had fortified inside my mind? It was an easy enough way to let him know exactly how far my range was if needed, but letting Raphael in… it was dangerous.
Of course, I couldn’t truthfully tell Raphael that I was in support of that plan, so I changed the subject before he could demand any assurance.
“Should I be able to sense your feelings from drinking your blood?”
Raphael considered for a moment. “It’s not a common ability. Powers like that are unique.”
“Do you think I have any powers like that?” I pressed.
I didn’t think I had that power, but… how would I know?
I’d had his blood to complete the change in a borderline fugue state.
Sometimes it felt like emotions that weren’t quite mine stirred inside me.
Of course, that was partially from the grimoire.
I’d gotten better at picking those thoughts out.
But sometimes, it was like there was something more.
Not the righteous anger, but other things—panic, concern, tenderness. Could that be Raphael?
“It’s not uncommon for progeny to share some vampiric powers with their sire. Of course, sometimes new powers emerge.” He cocked his head at me, contemplating me again.
Sweat beaded on the back of my neck. “So will our next lesson on embracing my vampire gifts involve turning into a bat?”
“Perhaps.”
“You’re joking.” His lips didn’t betray anything like a smile, but his eyes were light. With Raphael, I’d learned to read the subtle changes of his face, which I’d once thought was so stoic. As well as he could read me, in this I was learning him too.
Thea had given me a book on vampire powers when I’d first arrived at Damerel. It wasn’t comprehensive, but it had specified that most vampires had no powers at all—well, beyond unnatural speed, unnatural strength, night vision, and no need for sustenance beyond blood.
“I suppose with you, anything might be possible. Have you felt the need to eat any fruit flies lately?”
I rolled my eyes. “Hardly.” The only thing I’d craved was Raphael’s blood, and even if there was no forgetting my behavior this gloaming, I didn’t plan to bring it up. “Is that how you found out you could turn into a bat?”
“It might be one way to discover your abilities.”
I narrowed my gaze, not missing the fact he once again had sidestepped a question about his own powers.
Sometimes, Raphael could be ruthlessly candid.
But there were times it was almost like a dance around certain topics, where he knew just how to step.
He wove the truths into a puzzle I wanted to untangle.
“Wouldn’t I know by now if I had new powers like turning into a bat? ”
“Would you?”
My lips twisted. I hadn’t known I was the necromancer until I died, and I still don’t know what I’m capable of on that front.
We had stumbled onto a dangerous subject, and I wasn’t sure how we’d gotten there, but it was suddenly imperative that we backed away from me answering direct questions about new powers.
“Are you sure I shouldn’t be accompanying you to the king? ”
Raphael leaned closer, a teasing gleam in his eye. Strands of white hair fell past his ear, tempting me to brush them back. “So reluctant to be parted from me?”
Why was I so focused on fighting this? I should be rejoicing at the thought of having some time to myself. I could seek out Sir Ferro. Maybe some innocuous questions about metallurgy would help me access my magic. “Just curious.”
“One of my favorite things about you is that curiosity.” My stupid chest grew tight at that. “Today, however, it’s unnecessary for you to attend. You’ve been going to so many meetings, I’m sure you’ll enjoy a respite from the boring politics.”
I didn’t quite have the same respite in mind, but I nodded. It was nighttime, but only just… Sir Ferro was probably in the same wing of the palace. If Raphael was confident in the relaxed bond between us, then I could perhaps try any room with a beating heart.
“Of course, Iademos will be by your side for the day.”
Ogre dung. There went any chance of exploring without my wanderings being reported. We hadn’t been attacked, but that didn’t mean I would dissuade Raphael from leaving me with a guard. But did it have to be Demos? He hadn’t had a kind word for me in ages.
“What about Larissa?” Surely the vampiress was skilled enough for sitting around with me all day, which was what Raphael seemed to expect for me.
His brows narrowed, but it wasn’t Raphael’s voice that snapped, “She was assigned other duties.”
Great. Demos was already here. Though I found myself wondering just what duties the other soldiers might be assigned if they weren’t guarding Raphael or me.
Raphael left me to meet Demos in the living room, and I changed into a simple day dress.
Wanting to avoid the awkwardness of sitting around as long as possible, I took my time.
The corners of the bed could be better squared, the pillows fluffed.
When the bed no longer showed any sign of this evening’s events, I found other things to straighten.
My side table didn’t hold much. Raphael’s had more—rolled-up parchment, a quill, a worn book left open to a page hanging off the edge of the corner.
Some coins littered the space with the haphazardness only someone with a great deal of money—and power—would dare.
A microcosm of the chaos that engulfed his desk in his rooms at Damerel.
I opened the drawer under the desk. A single letter, the wax seal broken, was tucked inside.
The right thing would’ve been to leave it, to not invade his privacy. But something more was going on. He’d acted too strange on the road, and I hadn’t yet been able to understand why.
Gingerly, quietly, so as to not rustle the paper loud enough to be heard, I opened the letter.
R—
My spies have heard strange rumors—have yours told you any?
Come visit. I insist.
—J
I tucked the note back like I’d found it.
So I was right, something else was amiss.
The note was short and offered fewer answers than new questions.
Who was J? Someone in power. Lady Jaen? She wasn’t native to the southern kingdom, but she’d clearly sought him out.
Perhaps what I thought was interest in Raphael was something more.
But what spies, and what rumors? I wondered if it might be about me—how Raphael had been poisoned upon turning me. Thea had worked to keep it contained, but she was only human. She might have overlooked someone.
But then what rumors would Raphael have heard?
Having delayed as long as I could, I went back to the sitting room.
Raphael patted Demos on the shoulder with a stern look in his eye. We exchanged nods across the room, then I was left alone with Raphael’s general.
Demos stood by the door, arms crossed. His hair was tied at the nape once again, gaze stern.
For a moment, I stared at him. What if I could go see Sir Ferro?
Demos would never permit it, but I could thrall him, probably.
Raphael had shown me how it worked on a human—the more I’d thought of it, the more I suspected that was exactly what I’d been doing unconsciously on the vampires.
If he looked at me, I could do it… A bone-deep certainty slammed into me.
I could do this.
I shook myself. Doing that would be wrong. Taking away his free will—wasn’t that what I feared the vampires did? And to do so especially on someone who had been almost a friend, a mentor.
I hated that I was contemplating it. I hated that if I continued to explore my powers the way I needed to, I’d probably have to confront those questions over and over.
I’ll only do it for the bad vampires. Surely I can draw a line.
“You can sit,” I said awkwardly when I realized I’d been staring too long. Surely he didn’t expect to stand around until Raphael came back. Or, well, actually, that very well might have been his plan.