Chapter 7
Craindre
CLAIRE
We rode at an unforgiving pace for three days, never stopping except to change horses. When we did, Lady Natalia would force a skin of water into my hand and demand I drink. Otherwise, none of the riders spoke to me.
I saw Bastien only briefly during that time.
There was never an opportunity to exchange more than a glance with the vampire I was supposed to be spying on.
Sometimes, when I couldn’t sleep, I’d open the curtains and watch him: a lone figure in moonlight, riding beside us, hair unbound and bright against the dark.
His jaw set. His mouth a hard, tempting line.
I wondered if his necklace was still pulsing like a heartbeat, and what that meant, but I knew he’d never humor my curiosity.
Frustrated, I closed the curtains and let out an exasperated huff, which drew the attention of my only companions: Bastien’s nephew and his sanguine partner, a young woman named Lady Okeri Djannelle. A human noble who’d grown up in the capital.
More often than not, Tyson was grumbling about being locked inside a carriage instead of being allowed to ride. Lady Okeri listened to his bellyaching with mild disinterest as she massaged a sweet-smelling cream on her mahogany skin until it glistened.
Neither seemed interested in me except in fleeting bursts, like when they produced a deck of cards and wanted to play to pass the time—some game from the capital they called Dépouiller, which took me the better part of a day to learn.
They said it was more fun with strong drink and more people and quickly lost interest.
I didn’t mind when they ignored me. I was used to being invisible. It was the daily feedings that were more difficult to ignore. At sunset, when the last rays were streaking through the sky, Lady Okeri would set her hand on Tyson’s cheek and examine him.
“You need to eat,” she’d say without fail.
He’d make some joke about being ‘full of himself’ that he likely found funny, but Okeri didn’t. And neither did I. “Laugh all you want, Tyson, but no matter how full you claim to be, by sunset you look weak.”
This caught my attention. From the corner of my eye, I watched them locked in debate about this perceived weakness, wondering if vampires needed blood every day to maintain their strength. Swallowing hard, I wondered if Bastien expected to feed from me that often.
Okeri tilted her head to the side, pulling back her curly hair, and offering herself to him. “I can’t stand that sickly look in your eyes. Just do it.”
Gripping the side of her neck, Tyson pulled her close. “If you insist.”
I looked away in an effort to avoid swooning, but there was no escaping the way Lady Okeri gasped when his lips found her neck or the sound of him swallowing mouthfuls of her like she was sweetened tea on a stifling day.
A sheen of sweat broke out across my brow and my hands began to shake. I didn’t know how I was going to endure the same once we arrived at Chateau Rose, so I put it out of my mind.
In the hours I spent in silence, I stared out the window and thought of Sera.
Hoping my little sister made it back home without doing something reckless.
At night, when I could sleep, I dreamed of seeing her again in the graveyard outside our house.
Watching her cast spells under the light of the full moon. Happy and whole.
My dreams never remained sweet for long. They’d weave into nightmares that left me drenched in sweat. Images of a graveyard turned bloody, of bodies littered between gravestones. And of a wolf with piercing eyes coming to claim Sera’s life.
On the morning of the fourth day, when I had a terrible crick in my neck from sleeping on the tufted bench and barely exercising my legs, we stopped at a small inn on the bank of a lake that looked as big as the ocean, just as the sun was setting.
I’d studied enough maps to know this must be Emerald Lake. And by the sun’s position, I knew we were near the northern bank, just south of Swift River. Nearly midway between the capital and Chateau Rose.
Part of me was excited to be allowed out of the coach for a proper meal, but another part of me was terrified of what was waiting: the Duke of Roselyn, and his teeth.
I searched for the moon’s shape in the sky, wanting to say a small prayer to Diana, asking for her protection.
The moon would be full in three nights’ time, and when it was, Sera and my family would be able to recharge their magick.
But luck was against me. The sky had turned into a riot of colors that reminded me of wildflowers in spring.
Pinks and blues and pale purples, all reflected on the smooth surface of the water.
When the door to the coach was opened, goosebumps lifted on my skin, pebbling my flesh in the bitter chill of the evening.
My companions exited first; I followed after, my arms hugged tight around my body, teeth chattering as I descended the wooden steps.
My aching legs stiff as I stepped onto the dirt road in front of the inn.
A wooden sign out front read “Tooth and Hare,” and was adorned with a picture of a bloody rabbit in the jaws of a wolf.
How… pleasant.
“What a dump,” Lady Okeri said under her breath, gesturing to the sod-roofed building. Her voice carried a rich tenor that made her sound so sure of herself. “The Duke can afford better accommodations than this.”
I thought the inn looked quaint, and I was especially interested in the line of smoke puffing from the chimney, which meant warm food and a cozy fire. The smell of roasting meat hung heavy in the air, and my stomach growled.
Tyson shook out a long fur-lined cloak and settled it around Lady Okeri’s well-defined shoulders. “I’m sure he could find better accommodations, but my uncle prefers to watch us squirm so he can call us soft. It’s all part of the test, you see.”
Offering her his arm, Tyson escorted his sanguine partner toward the inn.
Their heads bent together in laughter, chuckling over some private joke.
The long royal blue cloak emblazoned with the golden sigil of House Allard flowing in her wake—a moon, a blade, and a coiled serpent encircled by twelve small stars.
Absently, I wondered what it was like to be that close to someone—other than my sister. Or to have a man place a cloak around my chilly, exposed shoulders and make light of this bad situation with me.
I found Bastien scowling as he shouldered a pack. I knew I would never have the kind of relationship with my vampire that Okeri had with hers, which was fine by me. I didn’t want the Duke to be my friend. I hated him. I despised being in his company. And he clearly despised being in mine.
After watching Tyson with Lady Okeri, I’d been expecting Bastien to come for me, but he hadn’t. Instead, the past three days had been a reprieve from his irritating presence.
At the same time, something inside me stirred.
Something deep and dark that he’d awakened at the ball.
His white shirt was a ruin of dirt and sweat that clung to the muscles of his chest. The sleeves pushed up his corded forearms. His black trousers and riding boots snug against the thick lines of his legs.
He gathered the tangled strands of his hair into his hand and tied them off, pulling every sharp line of his face into focus.
My attention narrowed on his lips, which were the only thing soft about his face. The memory of those lips ghosting over my neck infiltrated my thoughts, and warmth filled my cheeks. That night, when I’d asked him what he was doing, he replied, “Trying to appeal to another one of your instincts.”
He’d been trying to make me want him. And the scariest part?
It had worked. I couldn’t remember wanting anything more.
Except, perhaps, magick of my own. It made me wonder if there really was something wrong with me.
Something broken. Something that repelled Diana’s light from within if I could harbor such desire for a vampire.
I stewed on this thought for a long time.
After three days in a cushy cage, I decided my inexperience was to blame.
Bastien was the first man to touch me. To make me feel wanted.
Of course it tugged on some primal instinct.
Besides, it wasn’t like I meant anything to him.
It was all for show. So he could drink my… blood.
I shook the thought from my head and strode forward, ready to be inside the warmth of the inn, when a woman appeared at the door, wearing an apron and holding a wooden ladle. I stopped dead in my tracks—my breath stilling.
Her long, fiery red hair marked her for what she was. A Dark Witch.
Diana, protect me.
I stumbled back, knowing that prayers wouldn’t help me now. Witches of the Darkness kept company with demons. Their power was unnatural. An affront to the power of the moon. She’d kill me where I stood if she knew who my mother was.
“Rabbit stew and crusty bread for your companions, Your Grace, and bitter red wine for you!”
I backed up a pace, then another. Keeping company with vampires was one thing, but I couldn’t break bread with a Witch of Darkness. It would likely be poisoned. Maybe that’s what my vampire overlord had planned. Me, face down in a bowl of soup.
My chest locked tight, breath scraping against my throat. The witch’s eyes found mine, and I couldn’t look away. Did she know who I was? Could she smell what I was? The enemy, sent to spy upon her evil deeds and sniff out the location of her precious relics.
It was too much to leave to chance. I needed to get out of here. I needed to hide. But there was nothing around except thickly wooded forests that were likely crawling with Dark Witches, and the lake, which likely concealed water demons.
I didn’t have magick. I couldn’t defend myself.
With a million terrible thoughts swirling in my head, I retreated for the safety of the coach.
At least if I was in the coach, I could bar the door.
In my haste, I nearly tripped but managed to stay on my feet.
My pulse pounded in my ears so hard I could barely hear my own ragged breath.
The coppery taste of iron coated my tongue, as though blood was already filling my mouth.
The world tilted with each step, my vision tunneling until the coach was the only thing I could see.
I stumbled on the top step but caught myself, reaching for the rail, when a hand closed around mine, yanking me back.