Chapter 9
9
I wasn’t sure what drove my actions as I hurried through the dark city streets in the cool night air. There was something exciting about sneaking out, reclaiming my freedom, if only for one night. I was free, I reminded myself. Coming to the Selection had been my decision, and I was only staying on the estate because I wanted to be there. Still, I wasn’t truly free. I was bound by my duty, albeit the duty I had imposed upon myself.
In the back of my mind, I knew I was being incredibly reckless. Henry would not approve of me venturing into the city and might even be furious if he found out I’d snuck out. But right now, going against his wishes excited me. Anger surged as I thought about what had happened in the study, and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment all over again at my failed attempt at seducing the Lord.
Who would have thought a vampire would turn down a girl throwing herself at him? I scoffed. Henry continued to defy my expectations of him. Perhaps he hadn’t taken me to his bedroom because he was suspicious of me. After all, I had drawn a dagger on him. I shook my head as disappointment in myself swelled in my chest. I should have been more subtle when I’d first arrived at the estate. If I’d played the role of a compliant vassal, I would have already been to his bedroom. Shivers skittered over my skin at the thought, and I scowled in confusion. I wasn’t supposed to feel that way about the Lord but knowing that only made it more difficult for me to ignore my reaction. I needed a distraction.
My steps became more confident as I made up my mind about where I was heading. I couldn’t go see my father because then I would have to admit that I was in the middle of jeopardizing my mission. My recklessness tonight could have consequences. Henry might decide to banish me from the estate for disobedience and choose another vassal. I stopped in my tracks and almost turned back at the thought, but that was when I realized I’d arrived at my destination.
I stood in front of Baylor’s Corner. The tavern door was wide-open, allowing yellow light and hum of lively chatter to spill into the night. I quickly glanced behind my shoulder in the direction of the Duval Estate. I could turn back. Henry might never learn of my escape. Or I could go into the tavern and see if Waylon was inside. I wanted a distraction, and Waylon could provide that. He’d never turn me down like the Lord had. I cringed as another wave of anger swept through me. I’d made a fool out of myself earlier because Henry had forced me to drink his blood. If I was being reckless and impulsive tonight, it was entirely his fault. Cursing the Lord under my breath, I walked inside the tavern, shutting the heavy wooden door behind me with a loud thud.
The pungent odor of liquor and tobacco hung heavy in the air, and the establishment was half-full, mainly with guards from the border who’d just finished the day shift. They were the ones who usually stayed out late. Most people were already inside somewhere or hurrying to their homes since the night had descended. Trained and armed, the guards were among the few people who braved the city streets after dark. Of course, many didn’t go far after leaving the tavern. They only walked several feet to the adjoining inn to spend the night in the arms of one of the women who charged coin for their company.
Casting aside my conflicting emotions about why I was here, I made my way deeper into the tavern, looking for Waylon. I spotted him in the middle of a card game at one of the tables. When my gaze landed on his handsome face, my throat dried as everything I’d felt earlier when I’d been with Henry rushed back in, flooding my body with heat.
Waylon didn’t notice me at first, too absorbed in the game. His brows were pinched, and his gaze was intent on the cards he was holding. They must not have been good because after a second, he dragged a hand through his short, light-brown hair and laid the cards face down on the table with a heavy sigh. His gaze shot to me, and his forest-green eyes widened in shock.
I flashed him a smile and glided over to one of the empty tables in the corner. Taking a seat, I watched as Waylon excused himself from the card game and swaggered over to me. He wasn’t wearing his guard leathers, which told me it wasn’t his turn to patrol tonight. In a loose white shirt and buckskin breeches, he looked relaxed, matching the atmosphere in the tavern.
He slid into the seat opposite me and smiled, his round face lighting up with excitement and a bit of apprehension.
“Sophie. What are you doing here?” He still smiled when he asked the question, but I could pick up on the notes of concern in his tone. “I thought vassals weren’t allowed to leave the estate.”
“The Duvals don’t know I’m here,” I admitted.
His smile faded as his eyes dimmed.
“Is everything alright? Are you in trouble?” he asked, lowering his voice and leaning closer to me across the small wooden table.
I lifted my shoulders in a noncommittal gesture instead of responding.
“Have the streets been quiet? Has there been another attack?” I changed the subject, keeping my voice down. Not many knew about the attacks, and it was important to keep the information contained. We couldn’t expose the clans as monsters that they truly were. Not until we had the Tear as the means to destroy them.
Waylon eyed me for a moment before responding. I had a feeling he wanted to press for answers but chose not to.
With a heavy sigh, he said, “There was an attack last night.” His eyes were haunted as he continued, “We were too late. The body was drained of blood, and it looked like the person was mauled by a wild animal.”
My vision blurred, and it felt like shards of ice had filled the pit of my stomach.
“Anyone you knew?” I asked, my voice hollow.
Most Ravager victims had been border guards because they were the ones usually out on the streets after dark. It really didn’t matter if the victim had been someone we knew. A human life had been lost.
Waylon gave a small shake of his head before reaching across the table to take my hand.
“Are you okay? How…” His throat bobbed before he continued, “How are the Duvals treating you?”
My mind flashed back to the Vassal Ball, and an involuntary shudder rolled through me before I could reply. Waylon’s eyes shuttered, and his brows knitted.
“I swear to gods if they hurt you?—”
“They didn’t,” I interjected. “Besides, you taught me well. I know how to take care of myself,” I reminded him.
He looked as if he didn’t believe me at first, but then his gaze dropped to my neck, and his features smoothed out when he didn’t find any bite marks there.
One side of his mouth turned up.
“You were a very apt student. You have skills.”
“I could be putting those skills to use right now. We should be patrolling the streets instead of sitting here.”
Patrolling hadn’t been on my mind when I’d come to the tavern, hoping to find Waylon here, but now that I knew there had been another attack, I had the strongest urge to get out on the streets. A small, twisted part of me even hoped that I would come across a Ravager, just so that I could take out my frustration by driving a stake through his heart.
Waylon’s half-smile faded.
“Andre and Jared are patrolling tonight,” he said. “Besides, don’t you think you’re already doing enough?” He gently tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.
“No,” I replied without hesitation, thinking about the Vassal Ball.
Would those abused by the clans think I was doing enough?
Then, my mind shifted to the Ravager victim from last night. Would that person think I was doing enough? I shook my head, thinking that nothing would ever be enough until Dark Witches and vampires were destroyed.
“You don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.” Waylon’s eyes softened as he looked at me.
“Yes, I do.”
I was the one who’d found my mother on the night of her death. I was also the one who’d discovered the note about the Tear. It was up to me to do something with the truth I now knew about our world. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’d never regretted my decision to take on that mission even though sometimes its weight threatened to pull me under. Like now, when it felt as if the walls of the tavern were caving in on me, making it difficult to breathe.
“Sophie—” Waylon started, his eyes flicking over my features and undoubtedly picking up on the nonverbal cues my face betrayed.
“Don’t,” I interrupted, even though I wasn’t sure what he was going to say.
Probably that I wasn’t on my own and to not put too much pressure on myself. But he hadn’t been there the night of my mother’s death, just like he hadn’t been there last night at the Vassal Ball. He didn’t know everything I knew. Speaking of which…
“Wren—the other vassal staying on the estate—said he’s a part of the Order of Light in his hometown of Weldon Heights. Did you know that yours isn’t the only Order of Light? Wren said Ravagers have been terrorizing other towns in the region and that Weldon Heights heard about your Order and created one of their own.”
Waylon’s brows shot up in surprise.
“No, I wasn’t aware of that. You know we’re as discreet about the Order as possible, but with the number of attacks increasing, I’ve been recruiting more men. It’s possible the information got out.”
“He even knows about…the Tear,” I said barely above a whisper.
“Now, that ,” Waylon enunciated the last word, “I haven’t disclosed to anyone.”
“I know. I don’t doubt you,” I assured him. “I figured my mother couldn’t have been the only one who knew about it.”
“Well, does that Wren have any other information about the amulet?”
“No.” I shook my head. “He had the same clue we did. That was why he volunteered for the Selection.”
Waylon nodded in understanding.
“And I’m guessing neither of you have made any headway in finding the Tear?” he asked low.
“Not yet,” I told him, swallowing thickly. I would have to find another way to search Henry’s bedroom. “But we will. We have to,” I added vehemently. “Waylon, things are so much worse than we thought.”
I quickly told him about the Vassal Ball and how horrible some of the clans were. Waylon’s face was ashen by the time I finished, and shadows crawled behind his eyes.
“I wish we could wipe out the clans. There are more humans than vampires. We should be ruling this country, not them,” Waylon said fiercely. “But we need their protection,” he added with a heavy sigh.
“Do we? Still need it?” I challenged. “You said there hasn’t been a witch attack in months.”
“I did say that, but what if we get rid of the clans and Dark Witches launch a full-scale assault like they did during the Red War? We’d be defenseless.”
My gaze roamed over Waylon’s taut features.
“Are they really that bad? The Dark Witches?”
He swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing before he replied, “They are. I’ve only been through one attack during my time on the border, but that was more than enough.” He couldn’t suppress a shudder that racked him. “I’m a good fighter, but I think I only survived because Lord Duval was there when it happened.”
My brows flew up in surprise.
“Henry was there?”
I knew he didn’t mean Vincent. I’d seen Waylon that night after the attack. He’d been white as a sheet and hadn’t shared much about what had transpired, his eyes full of all-consuming terror.
“He was,” Waylon confirmed. “He’s been coming out to the border ever since Vincent disappeared. It was strange at first seeing him out and about like that, but now everyone is pretty used to seeing him out there.”
“Just him? What about Isabelle?”
“Just him. I’ve never seen his sister step foot on the border. She didn’t even come out when the witches attacked last time.”
That wasn’t surprising. The human guards were the first line of defense. The clans were tucked away behind the warded wall, ready to rush to our aid only if we needed them. Henry coming out and helping to keep watch was unusual—another thing to add to the list of behaviors I wouldn’t expect from a vampire.
“The Lord seems…different from the others,” I said for some reason. Thoughts like these did not need to be shared aloud. They were foolish and pointless. Perhaps I’d only uttered the words because I wanted Waylon to tell me I was wrong in my observation. A moment later, he did just that.
“He’s a vampire. He still takes vassals and drinks human blood. He can’t be that much different from the rest of them,” Waylon said vehemently.
We sat in silence for a few minutes until Waylon ran his thumb over my knuckles, making me realize we were still holding hands. The rough calluses of his palm elicited a shiver, and my gaze dropped to our joined hands before darting back up to Waylon’s face.
“As much as it pains me to say this, you should return to the Duval Estate,” he said low. “Coming here was risky.”
His words urged me to be responsible, but his eyes told a different story. He didn’t want me to leave. Not yet. Still, I knew he’d always put my safety first before his own desires. Waylon cared too much about me, always had. My reasons for seeking him out tonight were selfish. He deserved better than this. But my pulse still thrummed with liquid warmth. It was fading—I could feel it—but I wasn’t ready to let go of it yet.
“I know what I should do, but I’m not ready to go just yet,” I said, my voice husky. Waylon’s breath caught as if he were hanging on my every word, waiting to hear what I would say next. “Do you think they still have rooms available at the inn?”
His eyes flooded with heat as his throat worked on a swallow. He looked conflicted. He probably wanted to send me away because he knew I shouldn’t be here. Several seconds passed as I waited, holding my breath, wondering if he’d turn me down like Henry had done. That would be a first.
Finally, he gave me a charming smile, his cheeks turning pink, and said, “There is only one way to find out.”
We left the tavern, hand in hand, and walked over to the inn. They did have a room available, and for a few hours, I let myself get lost in the sensation of Waylon’s body on mine, finally releasing the pent-up desire that Henry’s blood had created.