Page 52

And it had been all right.

Well, it had been a warmer place than he’d been in before.

And now Sam was dead, snuffed out for no reason than a Vampire wanted a drink and Sam was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Ryder was nothing like Sam. But he seemed to be standing near a warmer fire. And if he would help Grayson take down the people who had killed Sam for nothing then it would be worth it to reach back to someone just this once.

Focused once more, Grayson located that orange scarf again. People were drifting about with glasses of champagne and plates of food, chatting gailey with the other Vampires and humans among them. Mairead might think that they were all in competition, but from what Grayson could see they looked more enamored of simply being here.

They’re the chosen, Grayson realized. They don’t have to doubt that they belong. Yet, anyways, until the games begin or whatever they plan to do to pick fledglings.

He kept that flash of orange in sight. But he didn’t have to wonder where she was going. She headed up a stone path to the front door of one that looked rather like an ancient Greek temple. A girl with blond hair in pigtails who looked rather like an anime character greeted her warmly and escorted her inside. They soon disappeared from view.

So she is going to see a Vampire, but who? What Palace is this?

There were no names to identify them. He found himself drifting around the side of the palace, looking through delicate spun glass windows to see if he could follow Amara’s progress inside. But there were apple trees blocking his view and though he darted from window to window, he only saw graceful pale, cream rooms inside but nothing and no one else. He stopped, realizing that he had lost her. The smell of the trees was sweet but not cloying, as ripe fruit hung heavily from the branches.

How can anything grow without sunlight?

He reached up towards a perfectly shaped apple and plucked it from the branch. He smelled it. The scent was crisp and tart. The skin was firm. He fought the urge to bite into it though. It might look like an apple, but it might not be one.

Pretty poison.

“Grayson, could you please assist me?” A woman’s voice, rich and educated, reached his ears.

He spun around in surprise. He had thought he was alone. But the fear that quickened his heartbeat and caused adrenaline to squirt into his veins tamped down when he saw the person who had called his name. It was a beautiful woman in a long, pale dress with a strip of the same color fabric over her eyes as if she were playing blind man’s bluff.

Though she couldn’t have been able to see through the fabric, she was facing him directly, an open smile on her beautiful face. Though he couldn’t see silver eyes, he knew that she was a Vampire. You could not mistake her for anything else despite her seeming lack of predatoriness. He was not afraid. She meant him no harm. He was a good enough judge of character to know that. She was able to cause him harm, but she had no intention to.

The fabric over her eyes tugged at him. What was the meaning of it?

He let out a slow breath and said, “I didn’t see you there.”

“No,” she agreed.

They continued to stare at one another. Or rather, he stared and her face was turned towards him yet he was certain she could see him.

Seeyr… the Immortal Seeyr. That’s right. I read about her. She’s missing her eyes, but she can see the future, Grayson recalled and there was a deeper tug on him, but he couldn’t have said why. There was a familiarity about her, but there couldn’t have been. He would never have forgotten her presence.

“You--you asked me for help. What do you need help with?” he asked.

Seeyr would know his name, would know who he was. Balthazar or Caemorn would have told her. The big three that ran the school. Yet it was odd that she could identify him when she’d never met him before. It wasn’t like she could have seen his face and placed it.

“Would you get Meffy down for me?” she asked with a rather helpless gesture towards a rather large apple tree.

“Meffy?” Grayson looked up into the tree’s branches, expecting to see a delinquent child, perhaps like the one that had met Amara. But, at first, he saw nothing at all.

Then there was the sweet little mew! And a black cat, little more than a kitten appeared, quivering on a branch.

“Oh!” Grayson exclaimed.

The little ball of fluff mewed piteously again.

“Yes, he ran away. He was playing and now he’s stuck. Balthazar will be in tatters if I don’t bring him round for the parade,” she said. “Could you get him down for me?”

He measured the tree in his mind. The trunk and branches looked sturdy enough for him to climb, but Meffy was far out on one limb. He didn’t think he could shimmy out onto the branch easily.

“You’re not considering climbing, are you? You’ll ruin those clothes,” she laughed.

“I don’t intend to wear them again,” Grayson muttered.