Page 33

“Oh, that?” He flapped a hand at me. “Those are just games, lass.”

Games? I opened my mouth to argue, my blood rising—

But he started walking down the hill before I could.

Flustered, I couldn’t help but hurry down to follow him. He was possibly the easiest man I’d ever met to talk to, besides perhaps Antones. Yet even Ant had been limited by his allegiance to Lukain and had not always been able to say what was on his mind explicitly.

I imagined Garroway Kuffich did not share the same reservations.

There were no walls or gates to pass to enter Olhav. One moment we were walking over rough gravel and dirt roads, the next our boots were gliding on smooth, softly textured streets.

We were far on the outskirts of the city and hadn’t yet spotted anyone.

That didn’t keep Garroway’s eyes from roving madly everywhere we walked.

The tallest buildings were in the distance, congregated near the center of the valley.

Even these smaller houses and shops lining the smooth road were grander than anything I’d ever seen.

“No guards?” I asked Garroway, “city lawmen or sentinels or watchtowers?”

“Sentinels? Watchtowers? Who would want to leave this place if you call it home? And what fool would be stupid enough to enter if they’re not welcome?”

I laughed, unable to avoid it. He made a good point.

Garroway gave me a crooked smile. “The sound of your laugh is lovely, Sephania.”

My face heated and I turned away, my lips quickly falling flat. “Are we welcome, Garroway?”

He hummed. “Remains to be seen.”

Goosebumps broke out along my arms.

The bastard slapped me on the shoulder. “Only jesting, lass. Follow me and we’ll be fine. We should be far enough away from Manor Marquin for now.”

“For now.” There it is again. I didn’t think I’d ever feel a moment’s peace in this world.

As we walked through the wide road, a sense of claustrophobia surrounded me. I knew we were outside, but the legends were true: The buildings here were tall enough to block out the moon, the sun, even most of the sky. It gave the entire place a sense of being indoors. It was an odd phenomenon.

Garroway saw me gazing around frantically and spoke in a way I assumed was meant to distract me, not scare the shit out of me.

“Nuhav has gates to keep people caged in, ordered by Olhavians. This is true. It’s to keep the city on the mountain untainted.

But here? Noblebloods like to play games with prisoners who try to escape.

That’s one of the reasons there aren’t any walls or guardtowers.

Sport. Because, contrary to the elegant stature of Olhav, it does have crime.

The nobility will chase escaped prisoners to the cliffs of the mountains and offer them a place back home.

Usually as a test, and usually with the promise of thralldom should they return. ”

I gulped. He stopped talking and kept walking, turning the corner of a street to head down a smaller one with lightposts every ten feet. The streets were still strangely vacant here. I was caught up in Garroway’s story and hardly noticed.

“What then?” I demanded, realizing he wasn’t going to keep talking if I didn’t ask. It annoyed me. “What do the prisoners do?”

He smiled. “Most of them jump off the side of the mountain because they don’t trust a vampire’s promise.”

My blood chilled.

He chuckled and bumped his shoulder against mine.

Because of my advanced height for a woman, we were at eye-level. I assumed that was why he treated me like a man of equal stature—jostling my shoulder, bumping into me, slapping me on the back.

There was an odd ease with his hands, his closeness, I’d never experienced from a man. Just one of many new experiences this evening.

“Don’t worry, lass. They get to escape to the void of their blessed freedom when they plummet. Isn’t that a victory in the eyes of your faith?”

I clenched my jaw. “I have no faith.”

He winced. “Ah. Sore subject. Apologies. I’m sure we’ll get to know more about each other—ah, here we are.”

Garroway marched off the road toward a building. It was a two-story structure tucked away behind a few others, off the main street and hidden from the torch-fueled lampposts. He unlocked the door with a key from inside his tunic and pushed it open.

Inside was more of what I was used to than the rest of Olhav. Small, squat, sparse. Only a couple tables, a bench for eating, and some rough cots for sleeping. Two rooms—one up top, one at the bottom. Only the top one had a door.

“You can sleep up there,” he said, pointing. “Don’t worry. It has a lock.” He smiled.

“But you have the key.”

His smile vanished. “Right you are.” Pouting, Garroway shrugged. “Fine. I’ll take the top room. You can sleep down here with the rats.”

“Rats?”

He laughed. “Only jesting, lass. Lighten up.”

“ Excuse me ? Did we just see the same thing? Death, blood, and battle?”

“Yes. It’s a regular Seventh Day for me.”

My eyes narrowed on the half-vampire. He was entirely too relaxed about the situation, and it vexed me. I was eternally suspicious. No amount of funny words or joking behavior would change that.

He couldn’t simply disarm me with a smile or laugh.

“What’s your place here?” I asked, my suspicion made clear on my twisting face. “You live in the alleys of Nuhav. You drink from the dead of the Grimsons, like Peltos, who Antones brought to you to feast on and satiate your thirst.”

Garroway grimaced. “A crude measure, don’t you think? Treating me like some cannibalistic lecher—”

“Who are you, Garroway? Why are we here?”

Silence followed my outburst.

His eyes darkened, the levity gone. “I go where I am needed, Sephania Lock. Sometimes that’s in Nuhav, often it’s in Olhav. I am silent, so I seep through the shadows at will, going where my master bids me. Like every other half-blood, I am a thrall. And tonight, I was needed at Manor Marquin.”

His easygoing attitude returned before I could ask more questions. “Get some rest, lass. You look exhausted. I know I am, and I’m not even fully human.”

With that, Garroway gained the stairs to leave my presence. No coercion, no threats to keep me here. I could have left if I wanted. Walked right out the door.

No guards, no watchtowers.

An image of a wretched prisoner leaping to his demise over the mountainside—for blessed relief—filled my mind.

I swallowed hard and went to the cot in the corner of the room. Yeah, I think I’ll stay in tonight. No sense in wandering around this madhouse of a city alone.

My eyes closed and sleep took hold within seconds.

When I opened them some time later, it was to the sound of a voice.

“Ah. There’s my little temptress.”

I gasped awake, jolting upright and backing against the wall—hoping the familiar voice was simply a nightmare playing out.

It wasn’t.

He stood directly in front of me—tall, elegant, noble, bloodthirsty.

Lord Skartovius Ashfen smiled at me from the door.