Page 6

Voice after voice filled the air, pitched first in fear before the venom hit their bloodstream. Then the tones changed, dropping into moans and pants and whines. Fabric tore and flesh slammed together.

The warriors were having an orgy on the deck.

Blood rushed to my cheeks and spread throughout my face. I didn’t wear a star pendant, but if I did, I’d be clutching it hard. Patriarch Meallán’s favorite sermon decried all demonblood and their sinful ways. I had known this was my fate as a thrall. I thought I’d come to terms with it. Venom had pain-numbing properties, at least.

But even Karra, a witch and therefore half-demon, her body unbroken and therefore experienced, had been shocked by the hedonism of the Beast King’s court of immortals.

I was not prepared for this at all.

“Sit, Miss Halloran,” Luc said, standing before a bar cart in the corner. When I perched on the edge of a chair next to Jules, he asked, “Brandy?”

Jules didn’t answer, instead staring directly at me.

I glanced between them. Waiting. My eyes widened. “You’re asking me ?”

“I already know Jules’s answer.” Luc filled a glass with dark amber liquid and handed it to his soulbound. “What’s yours?”

That was a great question. “We don’t drink in Mabon.”

“Some of you do. I’ve seen the import ledgers.”

Another pitched cry sounded through the two layers of doors. Alcohol was a sinner’s drink, but I was on a sinner’s ship, sitting before two incarnates of sin itself. Karra had taken a shot before entering Azaras’s lair to bait the Beast. Liquid courage, she had called it. I could use a bit of courage.

Before I doubted myself, I nodded. Luc filled two more glasses. He handed one to Jules, who passed it over, and lowered the other to the table before the seat beside his soulbound. I stared into my brandy, but didn’t take a sip as the Lord of Dusk unclasped his axe’s holster. He lowered the daemium head to the floor until only the silver knob at the end remained visible, leaning against the table.

As he sat and raised his glass, the cabin dropped into silence. Well, mostly into silence. Everyone on the ship could likely hear the dinner party outside.

“So, uh... who’s steering this thing?” My gaze flickered up to the lords. “Unless vampires are skilled multi-taskers?”

They stared. Oh, stars. Why had I said that? I shouldn’t have said anything. I dropped my eyes back to the glass, the blush spreading to my ears.

Jules burst out laughing. “I like you. So many humans get quiet when they’re scared. It’s refreshing to speak to someone so... bold.”

“It’s just delirium,” I muttered into the glass before raising it to my lips—

I nearly choked. Stars, that was strong. The rich taste had a slightly sweet undertone, some flavor I couldn’t identify. Delicacies from the Impire were imported for the magistrates and what little surplus remained cost far more than even my father and stepmother could afford. Aislin might have been able to identify it.

I pushed the thought of my sister from my mind with another swig of brandy.

A half-smirk returned to Luc’s expression. “Nearly everything on this ship uses magic,” he said, answering my earlier question. “It’s steering itself.”

“That’s not dangerous? Aren’t there pirates?” Vampires from an archipelago had loved to raid the coast of the Impire in Karra’s time. If we were on the Thaddeian Ocean, then these were the waters they terrorized. Assuming three thousand years and two new kings hadn’t changed that.

“The Alvarese wouldn’t dare come this close to our shores,” Luc said. “And even if they tried, the Imperial Navy would stop them before they got this far.”

“What if your navy failed?”

Jules snorted. “Then we get to murder some pirates.”

He sounded delighted by the concept. Of course he was. He was a vampire. Who I was casually chatting with while drinking brandy on a ship bound for the Impire.

“But our navy won’t fail,” Luc said. “So it’s a moot point.”

Jules pouted at his soulbound. “Pity, isn’t it? When’s the last time you killed a pirate?”

“Decades ago.” The Lord of Dusk rested an elbow on his chair’s arm, leaning back into the seat. “Perhaps longer.”

“That’s no fun.”

I shuddered. Murder wasn’t meant to be fun. But that was a mindset I’d have to get used to. No one had died on a vampire’s fangs or claws yet, but we’d only left Mabon a few hours ago. Outside the window behind the Lord of Dusk, the sun drifted toward the horizon. A full day hadn’t even passed.

I shuddered again and pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders. It wasn’t cold in the cabin yet, though the nights were chilly, even this late in spring. If I’d known this morning would be my last in Corraidin, I would’ve worn an extra layer.

“You’ll catch your death in that patched shawl.”

My gaze ricocheted back from the window at Luc’s words. “What?”

The Lord of Dusk set down his drink and rose to his feet. I followed him up, up, up. Fuck, he was tall. My heart raced as the vampire circled the table. But he didn’t approach me, instead heading for cabinets embedded into the wall. From within, he pulled out a navy blue cloak like all the Dusk vampires wore over their black leathers. “We can’t risk you freezing overnight.”

Jules lowered his feet from the table and leaned forward. “We don’t have a better color?”

The Lord of Dusk shot his soulbound a look.

Jules smirked. “What? I think she’d look good in red.”

“And she wouldn’t in blue?”

“Not as good.” Tilting toward me, Jules planted his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his hand. “Luc is much better at giving orders than picking outfits.”

My instincts screamed as that inhumanly beautiful face drew closer, but I kept my voice steady. “And outfits are your specialty?”

Jules clutched his chest, feigning offense. “What are you saying? Do you see these rings?” He wiggled his fingers dramatically before me, then stood, his cloak sweeping around him. “This intricate stitching in my cloak?” The light glinted off the gold thread as he flung the fabric back to reveal his gilded daggers at his hips. “My hand-crafted daggers?”

Luc let out a heavy sigh, exasperation clear in his breath. But beneath it, there was a flicker of affection, a warmer emotion I hadn’t known he possessed.

“Are those ruby-eyed cats?” I’d noticed the gold hilts of the daggers earlier, but now I could clearly make out their shape. The bodies formed the handle, while the heads were decorative tips with snarling jaws and flattened ears.

“They’re hellynxes, I’ll have you know,” he said, that cheeky grin I was learning to hate spreading across his face.

“Is that a, uh... sensible choice?”

In a blink, Jules had the curved blade unsheathed. The black daemium leaked shadows as he spun it with practiced ease. The ridiculous hilt shape didn’t hinder him at all. “I didn’t need sensible weapons. I needed a statement piece.”

“They certainly make a statement.” I slapped my hand over my mouth. Why the fuck did I just say that? What was wrong with me? The fear and exhaustion must have been messing with my head.

Jules sheathed the blade and pinched his thumbs at the top, as if covering the lynx’s ears. “Shh, don’t listen to her, Thérèse. You’re beautiful just the way you are.”

“You named your dagger Thérèse?”

Jules pulled out the second dagger, the blade wide with a sharp tip. “Don’t forget her sister, Adé.”

Were all vampires psychotic, or was I just unlucky? “I have nothing to say to that.”

Luc pinched his brow. “Jules.”

The Lord of Dawn blew out a breath and flopped back into his seat. “You ruin all the fun, Lucey.”

“Are all soulbound like this?”

Jules raised his brows at me. “Who told you we were soulbound?”

“Oh, I, uh, guessed.” Shit. I needed to be careful. The Azarasians shared some details about their society, but never the full truth. The magistrates hadn’t mentioned their soulbond before, though everyone knew they were connected. “You seem to move around in pairs. Don’t soulbound usually travel together?”

Luc returned to the table with a navy cloak. Jules pouted at his choice, but the Lord of Dusk ignored him as he placed it beside me. The heat of his sudden proximity was like a summer breeze against my skin. “Something you read in your unsellable books?”

I swallowed. Azaras and Karra were the first soulbound pair, their connection forged in the early pages of The Soulborne Queen . I knew more than most, more than I should have. Every vampire born in the Impire over the past three thousand years had a soulbond, though the runespell had originally been created to kill demons. Demons were nearly indestructible, but vampires, witches, and humans weren’t. By binding Azaras to a weaker creature, they made Karra his one vulnerability.

But no sanctioned source had ever explained soulbonds beyond a passing mention.

“It was probably in a textbook,” I said vaguely.

“Egh, textbooks.” Jules curled his lip. “Why are you reading textbooks?”

“...to learn?”

Jules cackled. “You’re hilarious.”

“That wasn’t a joke.”

“Of course not,” Jules said. “You read textbooks . Luckily, you’ll never run out of those since Luc’s a bit of a book hoarder.”

Luc crossed his arms. “Book collector, Julien.”

His grin widened. “I’ve seen the Duskfell library. Hoarder is more accurate.”

Duskfell? That was Azaras’s palace in Tenebra de Mar. Why did Luc have access to the palace’s library? And why would I have access to any of his books in the long term?

Were they... keeping me?

My flush had faded throughout the conversation, the moans and grunts from outside sinking into background noise. But it suddenly raged back to life and spread through my entire body.

My cheeks burned.

My chest heated.

My core throbbed.

I clenched my thighs together. Not now. Jules’s soothing rune still kept the worst of the pain at bay, but I didn’t need to add desire on top of the stress. Both were equally aggravating to my illness.

Jules inhaled and hummed. “Why the flush, lovely girl?”

If I could’ve turned more red, I would’ve. Azaras could smell Karra’s desire and vampire noses were as good as demon noses. I pushed to my feet and pulled off my patched shawl, ignoring the Lord of Dawn’s smug grin and the Lord of Dusk’s looming presence. It dropped to the tabletop with a muffled clunk. My bundle of food. My book.

I reached into the pocket—

Jules plucked my shawl from my hands. At least, I assumed he did. One second it was in my grip and the next it was in his. “What’s this?” He pulled out the bundle of food, reached inside, and yanked out the molding cheese—then immediately dropped it. “Eww.”

Luc reached in next, retrieving the bread. One dark brow raised. “Did you intend to eat this or use it as a weapon?”

He said it so dryly, I didn’t know if he was joking or not. “It’s not that stale.”

“Incinerate it with the shawl,” Luc said, dropping the bread back into the cloth.

The Lord of Dawn grabbed the mass of wool and food, but he paused, likely feeling the book’s weight. “What—”

I grabbed my shawl and tugged with all my strength. Which, admittedly, wasn’t much. But Jules must not have been holding on tightly since I somehow ended up with the whole mass of fabric in my hands again.

Triumph flared through me—for a split second.

Jules stared at his empty hand before his golden gaze slid to me. His pupils had expanded slightly, darkness overtaking the bright gold.

Luc arched a brow at his soulbound. “Did she just steal that back from you?”

“It’s not like I was trying to keep hold of it.”

Luc’s second eyebrow raised to join the first.

“I didn’t think she’d grab it back.” Jules frowned at me. “You are aware I’m a vampire, yes? Do you want to die?”

My heart jumped into my throat. “What?”

“Is that why you volunteered?”

Fuck, had I finally crossed the line? I quickly glanced between Jules in his seat and Luc standing at my side. “You—you wanted my pregnant sister.”

“Yes.” Jules paused, waiting. “And?”

I crossed my arms, clutching the shawl—and my book—to my chest. “I couldn’t just let you take her. She’s my sister. And she’s pregnant.”

“So?” Jules didn’t look any less confused. “She wouldn’t be the first pregnant human in a harvest.”

“She wouldn’t be the first in this harvest,” Luc said.

“Well, I... Does it matter?”

The Lord of Dusk cocked his head to the side. “Yes.”

“I... I don’t want to die. Especially not at a vampire’s hands. But my life was forfeit either way. I’m only a couple months away from my thirtieth birthday.”

“And why is that?” Luc circled around my chair. The hairs on my neck rose. “It’s an odd choice for a human to make.”

“How do you know it was a choice?” I snapped.

Luc stopped between Jules’s seat and mine. The hints of warmth I’d witnessed from him over the last hour had vanished. Only a callous vampire remained behind.

I hadn’t only crossed the line. I had run past it. Idiot.

I dropped my gaze, my legs starting to tremble. I didn’t want to die. I was too young to die. I had barely lived. I swallowed. “It’s not the shawl I want, my lord.”

When neither vampire replied, I plunged my hand into the bundle of fabric. It settled on the book’s spine. I yanked the book out with one hand and tossed the shawl down to the table with my other.

Did the cloak have a big enough pocket for a full book? I hoped so. I wasn’t sure I could carry it all the way to wherever we were going. Assuming I wasn’t murdered—

A silver-ringed hand plucked the book from my grip.

Oh, stars. “Wait—”

“ The Soulborne Queen: Volume I by Katalina Estevez,” Luc said, examining the worn hardcover. “I didn’t realize this was in circulation in Mabon.”

I was red-hot again. Not that my blush had faded this time. Luc had joked about my heart seizing, but I didn’t think it was a joke anymore. “It’s not. I think someone accidentally added it to a shipment. I never got another copy or the sequel.”

“So you read textbooks and vampire erotica?” Jules asked, a purr to his words. It did weird things to my insides. I ignored it. The lords had all but threatened to kill me a minute ago.

“It’s demon-witch erotica,” I muttered.

“Oh, my apologies,” Jules said. “Demon-witch erotica.”

I ignored him to risk a glance at Luc. “Can I have it back?”

The Lord of Dusk considered me. After the longest ten seconds of my life, he continued around Jules’s chair and returned to his seat. He placed the book on the table between us. “What will you give me for it?”

“I have nothing to trade.”

Luc raised his glass and sipped at his brandy, not in a rush to reply. “That’s not true. You have yourself.”

I sunk down into my seat, a controlled fall. I don’t know why those words impacted me more than the death threats had. “I’ve been harvested. You can do whatever you want with me. Honestly, you could’ve before the harvest, too.”

The edge of a smirk returned to Luc’s lips, the utter cold of him fading slightly. “We can do whatever we want with you. But we can’t force you to do what we need you to do.”

That was nefarious. “What do you need me to do?”

“We need you to volunteer once more for us.”