31. Rae
RAE
“Toto, we aren’t in Kansas anymore,” I whispered to stone walls as my fingers ghosted over the silken fabric on the bed. I’d always loved The Wizard of Oz, but I had a whole new appreciation for what Dorothy had been through now.
The chamber, as Lenore had called it, was some sort of gothic bedroom fit for a royal.
I guessed, since it was next door to the King’s, that made sense.
The intricate arches all around the room looked hand-carved and centuries old.
Two massive windows were filled with stained glass depicting scenes of elaborate gardens that I wanted to trace with my fingers.
And the bed? The four-poster monster was covered in a burgundy comforter and blankets, along with countless jewel-toned pillows. The headboard was just as intricately carved as the beams overhead, and velvet curtains in the same tones as the bedding hung around it on some sort of crown framework.
I’d thought I’d felt out of place in my old life, out of step and awkward at times. But that had nothing on how I felt now.
A knock sounded on the door, and I straightened. “Come in?” The words came out as more of a question. Because who was at the door? A familiar face or someone who wanted to rip my throat out?
Pax poked his head in. “You sure?”
I nodded. “I just wasn’t sure if it was a friend or someone who wanted to have me as a snack.” My eyes flared. “Wait, do you want to have me as a snack?”
Pax grinned as he fought a laugh. “If I’ve resisted all these years, I think I can hold out a little longer.”
I studied the friend I’d known for so many years. The one who held me as I broke down in tears on the anniversary of my parents’ deaths. The one with whom I’d shared my deepest secrets. He’d come to feel like more than a friend to me; he was a brother. But now, I felt like I didn’t know him at all.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Pax pleaded. “It’s still me.”
“Is it?” My fingers fisted in the ridiculous skirt of my dress. “Was everything you told me a lie?”
He moved then, crossing the distance and coming closer. “No. I spoke only truths to you, even if I had to disguise them in different words.”
My brows pulled together. That sounded a lot like a half-truth to me.
“My parents never truly accepted me. Even though most in Lumaria are quite progressive by human standards, they were not. But Rhys’s family welcomed me with open arms. I lived with them from the time I came out at sixteen.”
My heart cracked. “I’m sorry, Pax. They missed knowing the most incredible human—” I stopped myself. “Nocturnae.”
He smiled, a little of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders. “Good job on the terminology.”
“I can’t believe you exist on blood,” I muttered.
Pax shook his head. “You have no idea how much human food I forced down because of you.”
I gaped at him. “Wait, does that mean you hate ice cream?”
He gave an exaggerated shiver. “Disgusting.”
“That is the real betrayal.”
He grinned and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Sorry, Rae-money.”
“You should be,” I huffed.
“What do you think? Want a tour of the castle, or do you need a nap?”
I glanced around the room, feeling very much like I didn’t belong. “Can we walk around outside? On the grounds or whatever you call them?”
Pax shook his head but released me and crossed to the door. “Always in search of whatever flora you can find.”
“Predictable should be comforting, considering all the life-altering knowledge that just dropped around us.”
“Point well made,” Pax said as he held the door for me.
I stepped into the hallway, surveying my surroundings. While there were chandeliers above us, there were also torches on the walls, lit by hundreds of flickering embers.
“It’s a nod to our magic,” Pax explained.
I glanced at him in question.
“Each of the four Nocturnae Houses has magic rooted in an element. Ours is fire,” he explained as he led me down a back staircase.
Everything made a little more sense—as much as a fantastical world could, anyway. “Is the magic in the land itself?”
Pax nodded as our footsteps echoed on the stone steps. “It changes when you enter the territory of another House.”
The whole thing was fascinating. Maybe if I just focused on that, as opposed to my own life-altering circumstances, I wouldn’t lose it.
As we reached the bottom of the winding staircase, Pax pressed his palm to a stone next to the massive door.
Locks and gears sounded. A second later, it opened to reveal two guards.
They weren’t in the same wardrobe as the ones earlier—the kind that looked like a cross between medieval and apocalyptic.
They were dressed slightly more casually.
While they wore the pants that I’d often seen bikers don to prevent road rash, the armor on their chests was lighter—a leather plate that held sheaths for various weapons. I swallowed hard as the man and woman glowered at us.
Pax simply nodded in their direction and pressed a hand to my back, guiding me out.
I hurried forward, anxious to get away from yet more unfriendly stares. I breathed deeper as the quiet of the forest met us. Only it wasn’t exactly quiet.
It was only then that I realized the plants, the ground, and the stream were…crackling. Buzzing with the energy of the fire they were fed by. I couldn’t stop myself then. The creations had a pull that tugged me forward.
I wanted to examine each and every thing. I bent, brushing my fingers over the petals of a wildflower. Sparks flew into the air, making a soft laugh leave my lips.
Pushing up, I moved to a tree and then a shrub, trying to find classifications for what they’d be similar to in my world. Some were obvious. Others, I couldn’t identify at all.
I moved deeper and deeper into the woods with Pax at my back, guarding but not intruding. For the first time in…I didn’t know how long, I felt more like me.
The sound of laughter and squeals of delight met my ears. My footsteps slowed as I reached the edge of a clearing. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but it sure as heck wasn’t the vampire equivalent of a playground.
In the center of the clearing was a wooden castle of sorts. There were pieces I didn’t recognize, but others were fundamentally familiar. It had a swinging bridge that joined two sides, ropes to climb, and slides to fly down.
A little girl with red hair let out a battle cry, and my heart stopped. She stood on the very top of one of the turrets—far too high to land safely. Yet still, she leapt into the air.
A laugh broke through the sounds of the children as a man stepped forward to catch her—a man I recognized. Rhys caught the little girl, who couldn’t have been more than six, and swung her around, making her dress fly out as she squealed in delight.
My heart caught in my throat as I watched him. It was so…natural. And he seemed so…happy.
It was then that I realized how deeply unhappy I made him, and the knowledge had a sick feeling taking root in my belly.
But even as it grabbed hold, I couldn’t tear my gaze away. Rhys set the little girl down and turned as a boy begged to be caught so he could fly, too. Rhys did the same for him. Child after child, he teased and encouraged, whatever the young one needed.
I wasn’t sure how long I watched, but it seemed like both forever and a second at once. Until a cry broke my conversation. A little boy with blond hair had taken a tumble right in front of me.
He rolled to his side, grabbing at his knee. I couldn’t help it—I moved forward out of the tree line. Tears filled his blue eyes. “I fell.”
“I see that,” I said as I crouched. “I hate it when I fall.”
“Me, t-t-too,” he said, fighting off tears. “I hurt my knee.”
“Can I have a look?” I asked gently.
He seemed uncertain.
“I’m Rae, by the way. I’m not a doctor, but I did take a first-aid class.”
His little nose scrunched. “You smell funny.”
A soft laugh left me. “I’m sorry about that.”
The little boy rolled up his pant leg to reveal a bleeding knee. “I’m Henri.”
The blood was darker than a human’s—because this little one wasn’t human; he was a vampire. An adorable one. I ripped a piece of one of the underlayers of my dress and looked back at Pax. “You don’t have water, do you?”
Pax shook his head. “I don’t, but—”
“I do.” The voice was rough and carried a grit that made a buzz light along my skin.
Rhys masked his expression as he strode toward me with a small box in one hand and a bottle in the other.
I swallowed hard. “May I have it?”
He looked uncertain for a moment.
“I won’t hurt him,” I whispered.
Rhys shoved the bottle of water at me, then set the box down.
I turned back to Henri. “First, we’ll wash it, okay?”
He bit his bottom lip. “Will it hurt?”
“No,” I assured him. “It’s going to feel nice and cool.” I dumped a little over my fingertips to demonstrate. “See?”
He nodded.
I poured the water over his knee to clear away any debris, then dabbed it dry with the fabric I’d torn.
“Here,” Rhys said gruffly. “The bandage has our form of antibiotic ointment already in it. But he will heal in a matter of hours.”
As he handed me the bandage, our fingers brushed. I sucked in a painful breath as that now-familiar buzz lit within me, but I focused on Henri, patching him up as gently as possible.
“How does that feel?” I asked.
He beamed up at me. “I can fly again.” He hopped to his feet, only to have Rhys’s hand land on his shoulder.
“Let’s take it easy so your mom doesn’t ground me, okay?” Rhys suggested.
“Aw, man,” Henri complained.
“Thanks for looking out,” Rhys said with a chuckle.
But the moment I pushed to my feet, any humor was gone.
Rhys’s gaze skimmed over me. “You shouldn’t be here.”
The words hurt, but I wouldn’t fight them. “You’re right,” I said simply. I shouldn’t. I didn’t belong here.
But it was becoming clear that I didn’t belong anywhere.