Page 54

“I’m the king’s Chosen,” I blurted. It was the first thing that came to mind.

“Oh, is that the fantasy you offer?” The vampire stepped closer. He wasn’t as big as Raphael or Demos, but he towered over me. My legs began to shake.

“No, I’m the king’s,” I repeated. On reflex, I took a step back and knocked into the bed.

“Then call me the king.” His words came out a bit slow, his footfall at an awkward angle that lacked the usual vampire grace. He reminded me more of Nelson than Raphael. “Pretty thing. Haven’t seen you at Latia’s before.”

“I’m telling you, don’t come near me.” My voice was growing louder, more desperate. The curtain no doubt muffled some sound, and the den was far from quiet, but why wasn’t someone coming?

“Blood love the gimmicks she comes up with,” the vampire swore appreciatively and continued his stumble-stroll towards me.

No. I’m not defenseless . Anger coursed through me.

I had beaten the vampire in the library—narrowly.

This one was at least partly incapacitated.

I drew my dagger underneath the cover of my cloak and drew my feet apart into the fighting stance Demos had taught me.

This vampire didn’t yet realize—didn’t believe—I was a threat.

You’ll be underestimated in just about any fight. We’ll make sure to use it to your advantage, Demos had told me on that first day.

Once I attacked him, he’d realize I wasn’t some meek little donor. Which meant I only had one shot.

He was just two feet away when I closed the gap, thrusting the dagger as far as I could into his chest. Delight lit his features for a flicker of a second, thinking I was embracing him, but at the last fraction of a second he twisted, realizing what I was doing. Rage burned in those red eyes.

“You bitch!” he roared.

I had missed.

I was dead.

But as quickly as the realization came, the sight in front of me transformed .

The vampire was pushed aside and rammed into the wall on my left. Towering over him was Raphael, teeth bared.

“She. Wasn’t. Lying,” he snarled.

And then with a twist of his other hand, the vampire’s head popped off the body and rolled across the floor.

Disgust and anger warred inside me. The vampire’s blood spilled out, but only a second later the body decomposed into dust.

My chest heaved from the violent mix of emotions.

And while I composed myself, Raphael watched me.

“What are you doing here?” I hissed. “You… you just killed him.” I wasn’t shedding a tear for the vampire, but the sheer violence of Raphael’s movements, decisive and powerful, made my puny stabbing look like child’s play.

Before, he’d ordered the snap of a neck to make a point.

Now, he’d ripped this vampire’s head off in fury.

“I will kill anyone who lays a hand on you.” His words weren’t composed the way they usually were, not the smooth silk of night sky but a thunderous storm cloud. “Now tell me what you’re doing here.”

The anger from before swelled up, but now, instead of being divided between Latia and the other blood dens and all vampires, it was concentrated solely on their king. “I said I wanted to see a blood den. You all refused.”

Raphael prowled closer, but I didn’t back away. “And this is the one you picked? ”

I scoffed. “What, should I have found a less exploitative one?”

Raphael looked slightly affronted. “Exploitative? The humans are paid for their service. They’re here willingly. You may not like their choices, but it doesn’t make them wrong.”

I couldn’t even look at Raphael. “Of course they’re willing. After the first bite, who would say no to a second?” Wasn’t that what Latia had said? I crossed to the other side of the room, away from Raphael and the bloodied bed and the pile of ash-filled clothing.

But Raphael was at my heels.

“You did.” His voice had eased some.

It was on the tip of my tongue to admit I had dreamed of that bite over and over, had imagined asking him to take from me again.

Only sheer stubbornness had stopped me from making the request. But that confession would cost me.

Giving in to my attraction to Raphael would ruin me.

Letting him bite me? It would shred my very soul.

I made certain those emotions were tucked behind my mental barriers and said nothing, eyes weaving over the peeling wallpaper.

“What would you have us do instead?” Now he was at my back. His shadow met mine on the wall. “Vampires need blood, much the same as you need air or water.”

“Why not just take from animals? You did fine when we traveled living like that. ”

Okay, perhaps not quite fine from what he had said. But surely that was better. Every vampire had started as a human. Didn’t they see the betrayal in that?

Or were they all humans like Crowley had been, monsters who felt entitled to harm anyone necessary for their own gain?

“Why should we?” Raphael retorted. “There’s an order to things.”

“And that order will always have the weak at the bottom, and the strong taking what they wish from the top,” I snapped, turning around abruptly.

I regretted it. Raphael was even closer than I’d realized. I had to stare up at him.

“I repeat, they are not taken . Every human here is in my kingdom willingly, giving their blood willingly. It could be much worse.”

But it could be better . “And would they do this if they had a better option?”

“Did you serve in Greymere because it was your choice, Samara? Did they pay you a wage?”

I jerked back.

“ That was slavery. This is a choice. There’s a difference.”

It was hardly a choice anyone in their right mind would make.

The bites were addictive. Of course they stayed and let Latia offer their veins for any vampire with coin.

“I never asked my question the other night. You owe me one, Raphael, so tell me truthfully: Do you really think this system is fair? Do you think it’s safe?

For all the words about choice, I told that vampire no and he was still going to feed on me.

If he killed me, what then? Is it fair that at most he’d just be banned from this den and free to go to any other? ”

Raphael was still, yet I swore I could feel the riot of emotions in him. “What he attempted… it will be dealt with.”

“Dealt with?” I flung an arm in the direction of the wall. What had been fear when the vampire stalked towards me was crystallizing now as anger. “ Raphael, he’s already dead . And he’s only dead because someone bigger and stronger than him stopped him. Because you took pity on me.”

“Is that what you think?” He cocked his head. “That I pity you?”

I gave that the derisive snort it deserved.

“You expect me to believe that’s not what this is?

At every turn, I’m weak, and you’re strong.

I’m there serving Nelson for years, and one day in, you kill him.

I give myself to the Monastery, willing to debase myself for protection, and you kill them all too.

Fifth hell, even now I freeze at the sight of blood.

I let you feed me, clothe me, like a useless infant.

I have no magic, just the barest grasp on a language of a book you don’t even seem to care about.

If it’s not pity…” I trailed off. Then what? I wanted to scream.

“It is not pity.” Raphael took a step forward, and now I inched back, pressed into the wall.

“You don’t see the events as I do. Twice, now, you’ve defended yourself from bigger, stronger foes.

You work tirelessly to prove yourself. You claim you freeze, but I’ve seen you: when needed, you act.

Your mind is always working, solving puzzles at a speed even I marvel at.

In the temple, you removed a dozen arrows from my back when I was drenched in blood, so no, you do not ‘freeze.’ Surely food and clothing are the least I owe you for my life.

I do not contend you were not afraid, Samara. But you do not let fear stop you.”

He drew closer. I was caged between him and the wall. My heart thundered in my chest, but it wasn’t fear now. Even the anger was distant. The panes of his face were in stark relief, eyes vivid and beguiling. The white strands of his hair fell toward me as he bent his head to look down.

“I do not pity you,” Raphael repeated. “Little viper, I find you irresistible.”

I scoffed. “That’s madness.”

“Because you make me mad,” he growled. His words were like lightning in my veins, electrifying, terrifying.

His hand came to my cheek, brushing my hair aside.

All my thoughts halted. Moments ago, I’d feared death.

Now, I wasn’t sure what to expect. For Raphael to take me back to the castle, or to chastise me for being careless.

What I didn’t expect was for him to kiss me.

He grabbed my cheeks and captured my lips.

I stiffened in surprise, unsure and unsteady.

I’d never kissed anyone. But Raphael was patient, coaxing.

Desire stirred deep inside me, a wick catching fire with every brush of his tongue.

He guided me, and my blood warmed, desperation lighting in my veins.

His taste was potent and all at once it was everything to me.

There was no room where a vampire had been killed, no enemy kingdoms, no spymaster dogging at my heels.

There was only me, Raphael, and this burning tension that had ignited.

Want him . It didn’t matter I only had half a clue what I was doing.

He drew me deeper into the kiss, his other hand coming around my side and pressing me against him.

He tasted like darkness and temptation. I lifted my hands to his head, pulling him closer.

He groaned against my lips at the movement, and I arched at the sound.

More. I wanted more of that. My tongue curled in his mouth, a bold exploration.

Then it found the point of his fang. Copper colored the kiss at once.

I jerked back.

Blood.

Raphael didn’t press me into another kiss, but he didn’t move back. His red eyes were lit ruby red, the glow of a vampire who just had blood. Gods damn it. The taste remained in my own mouth. A strange tingle coated my lips, as if I could feel his absence.

Raphael kissed me .

I wanted him to do it again. Before common sense chased away the blissful feeling that had started in my body, before I remembered that the perfect, handsome face before me was normally topped by a crown .

He went still. Waiting. Assessing.

If I reached for him, he’d let me kiss him. Despite all my inexperience, I knew that with every fiber of my being.

“Raphael, you promised me one more answered question. Do you believe this system is fair, with the blood dens and the humans?” The strong ruling the weak?

I wished I could have been surprised when he finally gave his answer.

“Yes.”

There was no more kissing after that.

And as Raphael escorted me back to my chambers—across from his own—I came to another conclusion.

It wouldn’t be enough to translate the grimoire.

I would need to steal it.

The necromancer that Raphael had failed to locate—I’d find them. I’d give them the book.

I’d give the monsters something to fear.