CHAPTER 13 AILEEN
CHAPTER 13
AILEEN
Neither Atalon nor his secretaries were in the office. As I took the escalator leading to the cafeteria level, my work phone went off. After pulling it out of the pocket of my black work trousers, I saw it was Zion.
“Briefing for the gala event starts in an hour. Make sure to be there,” he said once I answered.
Right. There was a gala event soon. But that didn’t matter right now. So I said, “I might not be able to make it because I need to speak to our Lord first. It’s urgent.”
Zion paused for a short moment before he said, “Our Lord is a busy man, Henderson. He won’t be available until late evening. Just like you. You won’t get another extensive briefing like this—it’s a full-day briefing meant to prepare you for the biggest annual event in the Atalon League—”
“Then how can I reach him?” I cut him off, my panic growing. “It’s really urgent, Zion. Please.”
He didn’t pause this time. “And what can be more urgent than your job?”
My friend. But I couldn’t say that. So instead, I said, “Can you at least tell me where our Lord is?”
“As I said, he’s busy,” Zion responded, sounding impatient now. “So just come over here and—”
Seeing a familiar face in the cafeteria, near the blood dispensers, made me hang up on my boss. “Malik!” I called, running toward Zion’s identical twin and Atalon’s other Lieutenant.
He turned to me, surprised. “Henderson,” he said cautiously, showing far more emotion than his cold brother ever would. “What can I help you with?”
“Please tell me where our Lord is or how I can get in touch with him,” I said, trying not to sound too desperate and failing.
Malik frowned. “He’s busy right now—”
My fuse snapped. “I understand that he’s busy, but I have to talk to him!” I almost yelled. Almost.
Atalon had always made himself available to me. Hell, he even told me to come to him if I had any questions, not to mention he obviously favored me and was interested in me. So why was he suddenly off the grid when, for the first time, I urgently needed him?
Malik stared at me for a few long moments before his face filled with concern. “I can’t tell you where our Lord is right now,” he said quietly, “but if it’s something I can help you with, then by all means, please tell me.”
I shook my head and stepped back. “Just tell me this—is he here, in the League?”
Malik sipped his glass of blood as he looked from right to left. Then he gave me a jerky nod and turned his back to me, as if he didn’t want to be caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Gallery,” he murmured so quietly I almost didn’t hear him before he walked away.
The Atalon League private gallery was meant for the eyes and appreciation of the League’s vampires only. It was a haphazard collection of art pieces that were no longer relevant to the Atalonian’s exhibitions and consisted of Atalon League artists only.
I made my way to the sixth floor, where the large doors of the gallery greeted me. Usually, they stayed closed, since visitation times varied, and it seemed like Atalon wasn’t fond of having the place be open constantly.
Now, however, the doors were wide open, showing me a glimpse of what was going on inside.
About a dozen vampires roamed around the space, none of them familiar, and all wearing an expression of awe. Distantly, I could relate; the gallery was a magnificent place that didn’t cease to amaze me, no matter how many times I visited. The collection remained mostly unchanged, but its impact gave a punch to the gut every time you wandered in.
The most interesting piece in the gallery, the one that always drew me, was the painting of a beautiful redheaded woman running toward what looked like a landscape of paradise incarnate. Even now, the painting, from as far away as I was, still had this distinct feeling of aliveness that made me shudder with its eeriness.
But I couldn’t bring myself to care about the painting. Instead, I watched vampires roaming around the room and couldn’t help but feel a chill run down my spine. They were far too bright eyed to be veteran vampires.
Slowly, as though I was in a sort of dream or an alternate reality, I stepped into the gallery.
None of the vampires paid me any notice; they were too invested in the artistic exhibits. One of them spoke to a familiar tanned-skinned man with a crooked nose who made me freeze in place as the pieces came together in my head, completing the whole dreadful puzzle.
The man must’ve felt my gaze, because his eyes slowly turned to me and froze on my face. Shock like I’d never seen on his face before etched in the tight lines near his dark eyes. He then murmured something to the man he was talking to before he turned his back to me and started striding in the opposite direction, as if he was trying to get away from me.
And that snapped me out of my temporary stupor. Abe, my former teacher, was here and actively ignoring me.
What the actual fuck?
My dreamlike feeling was replaced with indignant fury. My mind a jumbled, incoherent mess, I didn’t think twice before I strode toward Abe’s retreating back, angrily determined to reach him and demand to know why he was ignoring me.
But before I could, a hand grabbed my wrist, wrenching me to a stop. I whipped around and froze once again, my anger coming to a temporary halt.
Atalon was looking at me with an inscrutable expression, neither happy nor angry, and said simply, “Come with me.”
Unfreezing, I shook my wrist out of his grip and gritted my teeth. Right. Abe being here and ignoring me made me forget the real reason I was here. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that if I went with Atalon now, I would miss my chance to corner Abe, and I refused to let that happen.
But Atalon was my Lord. Defying his orders wasn’t recommended.
Taking a deep, slow breath, I looked at him and said carefully, “May I please speak to my friend first?”
Atalon’s pitiless eyes didn’t leave mine. “I’m afraid that’s not possible,” he said, and while his tone was somewhat gentle, his eyes were hard. “Now, let me escort you outside.”
Before I could argue, he grabbed my wrist again and practically dragged me out of the gallery. Then he closed the gallery doors, which made me raise a brow—why did he bother, when the vampires would soon leave anyway?—and turned to me. “Why aren’t you at work?” he asked at once, eyes searching mine.
Renewed anger overcame me. “I was looking for you, actually,” I said, trying to calm myself and failing. “Give Isora another month like she deserves.” I paused, then added tightly, “Please.”
Atalon sighed. “And I suppose that couldn’t wait until I was free to talk and you finished work for the day?”
He tried to sound calm, I could tell, but as always, his eyes betrayed him. They looked at me with an almost reddish glint in their pupils, as though he was trying to contain his irritation with me.
“No, it can’t,” I responded obstinately. I refused to be denied. Not on this.
Obviously, that’s not what Atalon wanted to hear, but to my shock, he sighed and gave me an almost defeated smile. “What are you doing to me?” he murmured, stepping closer to me as he raised his hand to tuck a few rogue strands of hair behind my ear. “Why do you make it so difficult for me to tell you no?”
I was not prepared for the conversation’s sudden change of direction, but before I could respond, another voice spoke from behind me.
“Aileen.”
For the third time, I froze. But this time, unlike the former two, was completely different.
Because this time, the sharp shards of my broken heart rose from the ashes, jagged and bleeding.
This time, all thoughts of Isora or Atalon or Abe fled from me, replaced by such raw emotions, I felt so full and yet so empty at the same time.
Because I recognized that voice.
A voice I hadn’t heard in two months.
A voice that didn’t speak up when I needed it the most.
A voice I wished with all my heart, mind, and soul I could erase from my memories.
Slowly, I turned around, until my eyes landed on the man who’d built me up only to knock me down and destroy me completely.
And who was looking at me with his torn midnight blues as if no time had passed at all.
Ragnor Rayne.