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Story: A Bargain So Bloody

Want wasn’t the right word. “The humans. The ones you said donate their blood.”

The thought turned my stomach, but I wanted to believe it wasn’t as bad as I imagined. That Titus was wrong. That I could see with my own eyes what went on and disprove what I’d feared all my life.

My two companions exchanged a look. I could read the stiff expression on Iademos’s face. It said:Absolutely not. Amalthea, who normally would’ve been contrary, for once seemed aligned.

“I deserve to see how the other voids are treated,” I pressed. I deserved to see the role everyone thought I fulfilled for Raphael.

“It’s not that we aren’t willing to take you,” Amalthea gentled, “but it’s obvious you’re particularly, let’s say, sensitive to these things. Even the thought of blood drinking turns your pale skin ghost-white. Damerel has many wonderful things to offer. Let’s show you those for now.”

Demos nodded in agreement, and we set off to continue the tour of the commerce section.

But I didn’t agree.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Tilda’s was a boisteroustavern located in the narrow wedge at the side of the mountain.

Amalthea and Demos were greeted warmly, by name, when we arrived. The serving girl, a vampire with her hair tied back into two parts, gave me a curious look. In fact, the entire bar was filled with vampires. There were two levels: the main floor, and a second that ringed around the top. No one had to tell me it was a popular location. I hadn’t been this surrounded since the ball, maybe not even then. My heart pounded, breaths growing shallow. Amalthea held my hand, giving a reassuring pulse as she maneuvered us inside.

“You wanted to see the kingdom? This istheplace to be.”

A band played on the raised platform across from the bar top. A trio of players, two vampires, one human, took up the stage. One had a small fiddle, the other an instrument unlike any I’d ever seen, with billowing folds going in and out and white keys on the side. The human moved around the stage, crooning.

Demos secured us a table right by the stage that was surprisingly vacant, then left to get us the round of drinks Amalthea reminded him he owed us. I sat with my back to the wall, trying to focus on the music instead of my increasing nerves.

Amalthea gave me a concerned look. Guilt pricked at me. I was the one who had insisted on going out. It wasn’t fair for me to ruin the fun for others, but being surrounded by vampires—increasingly inebriated vampires—wasn’t something I could just put out of my mind.

“The Vampire Kingdom is rather musical,” I said over the din.

“It is?” she said, leaning in.

I gestured to the stage. “I mean, everywhere you go there’s someone playing. Each day, a new performer takes the stage in the castle.” Not that I’d let myself enjoy it these past few weeks.

“Oh.” A strange look came into her eyes. “That’s a new development. Raphael’s become quite the patron of the arts as of late.”

I frowned. She’d laced meaning into the last of her words, but I couldn’t guess what she was referring to. “Why is that?”

She tilted her head towards me. “Perhaps because you mentioned you liked it at the ball. That was when he sent a missive inviting musicians from all over to perform.”

For me? Was Amalthea right, and Raphael had sourced dozens of musicians just for me to listen to, because I’d confided in him my love of music? But he’d made no mention. Hadn’t asked me if I’d noticed.

Though with the blood bond, he must have sensed it—how my mind struggled to accept the joy I felt when I listened to a violinist dip their bow or a guitarist twist their fingers over the strings.

Something warm and light swirled in my stomach, much like when a song resonated in a way that set it apart from others.

I didn’t have the time to reply before Demos returned, setting two glasses of wine on the table between us while he kept a mug of something more to his taste in his left hand.

“Where’s my ale?” she groused.

“I thought you’d like something more refined,” he said innocently.

“I’ll show you refined.” She lifted her hand and made a vulgar gesture that had me recoiling. But she lifted the glass anyway and took a long drag.

I didn’t drink from mine. The two fell into an easy banter and didn’t take offense at my silence. My attention roamed from their latest argument to the music, and over to our surroundings. I hadn’t spent much time in mortal bars, naturally. But aside from the fact there was no real food served, and everyone had the same white hair, it wasn’t altogether so different from what I imagined. Packs of men came in, slapping each other on the back as they eyed groups of women. One table held a competitive game of dice, judging from the crowd built around it that seemed to cheer and bemoan the rolls with equal enthusiasm. Unlike the castle, where nearly all the servants were human, here the vampires worked as well. One serving girl polished glasses while chatting, her posture easy as a young-looking vampire leaned against the door.

And then he walked in.

Raphael wasn’t wearing the regalia I’d become accustomed to seeing him in within the castle walls, but there was no mistaking him as anything but an extremely powerful predator. He strolled into Tilda’s without an ounce of hesitation. The room didn’t come to a halt, not exactly, but it did quiet, the closest to him bowing as he walked past them.