CHAPTER 22 #2
Irene starts walking without another word. My heart pounds, each beat louder than the last, as I follow her down the candlelit corridors. Sounds of laughter, the clink of glasses, and the soft melody of a piano drift ahead. What am I doing? These people aren’t my friends.
They’re vampires—Ravens.
The very creatures I’ve spent years hunting. Their leader himself is responsible for my father’s death. I should turn around, go back to my room, and focus on finding a way out of this place.
But I’m already following Irene into the lounge.
It’s smaller than I anticipated, cozy even, with plush chairs arranged around a central fireplace.
Warm light spills from antique lamps, dusty bookshelves line the walls, and a gramophone in the corner plays soft jazz.
The Ravens are scattered throughout the room, the formal attire they favored for dinner replaced by a relaxed elegance that somehow feels just as commanding.
At a carved table, Saul sits opposite a noirette woman, playing what looks like chess.
The Raven, whom I’ve seen multiple times now but know only as Imposter Egon, lounges on a settee, reading.
The short brunette from the attack in which Mira and Henry died is lounging on a chaise.
I’m suddenly convinced she and Imposter Egon are a couple.
He had called her ‘his beloved,’ after all.
Reece deals cards at a nearby table, his face brightening when he sees me. “Look who decided to grace us with her presence.”
He raises his glass in greeting, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Not much else to do here,” I say, hovering in the doorway as Irene joins Reece at the table.
Imposter Egon marks his page before closing the book and setting it aside. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” He walks up to me, his hand extended. “I’m Kale.”
I shake his hand cautiously. “Seraph.”
“I know.” His smile is kind, polite, as expected from the facade they have trained themselves to wear. “Would you like a drink? We got wine, whiskey, blood…” He winks at the last one.
Despite myself, I feel the corner of my mouth twitch. “Wine.”
As Kale pours me a glass, I take a seat near the fire, keeping a careful distance from the others. After a few sips, warmth seeps into my bones, and for the first time since arriving at this mansion, the tight tangle of tension in my chest begins to loosen, if only slightly.
Kale settles back into his seat, motioning toward the others as he introduces them one by one.
The short brunette appears to be Palina, doe-eyed and unbothered by what’s going on around her. The noirette playing chess with my brother is revealed to be Hanae, who immediately glances up from the board as her name is spoken.
“Tell me, Seraph,” Hanae calls from across the room. “What was it like growing up with this one? Was he always this brooding, or did that develop later?” She gestures toward Saul with her glass, nudging a chess piece with her other hand. “Check.”
Saul swears under his breath, studying the board with reinvigorated intensity.
“He was worse,” I say, surprising myself with how easily it rolls off my tongue. Must be the wine. “Used to follow me around like a stalker, critiquing everything I did.”
Hanae raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the insight.
“Someone had to keep you from breaking your neck,” Saul scoffs, finally moving his chess piece with a calculated flick of his wrist. “You climbed everything in sight.”
“Only because you said I couldn’t.”
“Told you she was stubborn,” Saul mutters to Hanae, his eyes glued to the board.
“She sounds like a nightmare,” Hanae teases, casting me a conspiratorial smile. “I like her.”
Saul leans back, letting out a dry laugh, while steadying a piece that wobbled. “Trust me, she was—and still is.”
“Be nice,” Irene chides Saul, though there is fondness in her tone. “Care to join us, Seraph? We’re playing Hearts.”
The invitation is casual, but something about it feels layered, like a stage carefully set. Maybe they’re trying to disarm me, or maybe this is their way of measuring how much I’m willing to play along.
I peer into the contents of my glass, suddenly wary of what’s inside. “I don’t know the rules.”
Reece grins, all boyish charm. “Perfect. Easier to take your coin that way.”
I stand, putting my glass on the mantel. “You assume I have credits to lose.”
“In this house, no one plays for actual currency,” Irene says, waving Reece off. “The stakes are much more interesting.”
“I’ll teach you,” Reece offers quickly, his posture easy and inviting. Too inviting. There’s even a hunger in his eye that has nothing to do with blood.
“She’ll sit with me,” Saul interjects before I can say anything, taking Hanae’s knight with a flourish. “After I destroy this little minx.”
Hanae snorts, sliding her queen across the board. “Checkmate.”
Saul stares down at the board, disbelief etched across his features. “That’s—” He pauses, tracing potential moves with his finger before slumping back in defeat. “Impossible.”
“Third time this week,” Hanae gloats, collecting the pieces. “Perhaps you should stick to brooding and biting things. Strategy clearly isn’t your strong suit.”
Saul mutters something under his breath, but there’s no real venom behind it.
The flicker of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth before he hides it behind his glass.
Their banter feels so normal. It’s jarring to see Saul like this—relaxed, engaged, part of something.
He belongs here in a way I never would’ve imagined.
“Seraph,” Reece calls, fanning the cards between his fingers with casual mastery. “You in? You might be surprised by what you win.”
I make my way over to the table, settling into the empty chair next to him. “What exactly are the stakes here?”
“In Hearts, we play for secrets.” Reece’s eyes sparkle with mischief as he shuffles the deck. “The winner gets to ask any question they want of the loser, and the loser must answer truthfully.”
“That’s it?” I ask skeptically. “Just questions?”
“Oh, trust me,” he leans in, his voice dropping to a whisper, “in a house of immortals, secrets are the most valuable currency. I’d wager you have plenty worth discovering.” His gaze lingers on mine a beat too long.
I shift uncomfortably under his attention. “And if I don’t want to answer?”
“Then you forfeit a favor instead,” Reece explains, dealing the cards like a well-rehearsed performance. “To be collected at the winner’s discretion.”
“Within reason,” Irene adds quickly.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Reece winks at me, his knee brushing against mine under the table, the contact seemingly accidental but with a clear intention behind it. “I can think of a few favors I would love to request from you.”
“Back off, Reece,” Saul growls, appearing behind my chair. “She’s not interested.”
A twinge of irritation stirs inside me, sparked by that old annoyance at my brother’s insistence.
He knows I can handle things on my own, that I’m more than capable of fending off silver-tongued Casanovas like Reece without him stepping in.
But a part of me is grateful, so I keep my lips pressed together and let the moment pass.
Reece raises his hands in mock surrender, but the smirk never leaves his face. “Just setting the stage for our dazzling debutante. No harm in that.”
“You wouldn’t know harmless if it bit you on the neck.” Saul pulls up a chair between Reece and me. “Deal me in.”
Hanae joins us too, settling across from Saul. “Don’t mind Reece. His flirtation is as automatic as breathing.”
Reece doesn’t even blink at her comment. Instead, he shoots her a cheeky wink, all confidence and charm, like it’s second nature. Hanae rolls her eyes, clearly used to his default flirtation.
Watching their oddly familiar dynamic pulls me back to all the days spent laughing and scheming with my friends. I miss them more than I dare admit, the absence settling like a quiet ache beneath the surface.
Palina drifts over, draping herself over the arm of Kale’s chair. “Are we playing for blood secrets tonight?”
“Just regular ones,” Irene replies. “Let’s not terrify our guest on her first game.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Blood secrets?”
A gleam of mischief lights in Palina’s eyes. “Oh, don’t worry. If you survive tonight, perhaps you’ll earn the right to know them.” She taps her long, manicured nails against the table, the ruby red like droplets of blood. “Unless they eat you alive first.”
Kale pats her hand, speaking just above a whisper. “You might want to keep your wits about you, my love. In strategy, respect is not flattery, but survival.”
“In this room, what’s left unsaid can be more dangerous than any open threat,” Irene clarifies.
The atmosphere shifts as Reece finishes dealing. Everyone picks up their cards, arranging them in their hands, faces instantly transforming into masks of careful neutrality. Even Saul, usually so transparent with his emotions around me, becomes unreadable.
For better or worse, I’m in the game now.
I scan the room one last time, confirming Ace’s absence. Perhaps, just for tonight, I can pretend this is normal. That I’m not surrounded by enemies, and that I have choices beyond which cage to occupy.
“The rules are simple,” Reece says, flipping a card casually between his fingers. “Avoid hearts and the Queen of Spades at all costs. Lowest score wins. Think you can handle that?”
I examine my hand, the cards feeling foreign in my fingers. “Sure.”
The first few rounds pass in relative silence, punctuated only by the soft placement of cards and occasional muttered curses when someone takes an unwanted trick.
I watch the others carefully, trying to read their tells—the way Hanae’s jaw tightens when she’s dealt a bad hand, how Reece’s fingers drum against the table when he’s bluffing, the slight furrow in Kale’s brow when he’s calculating his next move.