Page 37

It was the first time I’d ever been given a choice . The first time anyone had ever told me to take my power into my own hands. Even Lukain. Master said I fought for my freedom, but the truth is I fought for him and his ambitions. His atonement to regain power in the hierarchy of Olhav.

According to Lord Skartovius Ashfen, and even Antones—whom I respected and trusted much more than this fiendish vampire nobleman—Lukain had been obsessed with trying to regain his former glory.

It made sense the Grimsons were a means to an end for him. He never actually cared for us like his own children. How could he, when he regularly killed us, maimed us, sold us as sex slaves, and forced us to fight pointless battles for the entertainment of bloodsuckers?

Then again, there’s every chance Skartovius is simply trying to poison my opinion of Master Lukain. He has the motive to do it, if Lukain truly attempted to assassinate him.

I didn’t know what to believe. I was bewildered because I knew nothing about this life. The only things I’d known the past five years were fighting and survival. I had no penchant for politicking or status.

This is a world I don’t understand, yet I have nowhere else to go. No good options.

The room had fallen quiet. We sat in opposite corners of the room, waiting out the day.

Finally, after an hour of leisure—assumedly while their meal digested—Garroway broke the silence. “So, what do we do with her, Master?”

Skartovius rested on the cot, staring up at the cracked ceiling with his hands behind his head. “I will return to my court this evening at Manor Marquin, to quell the tensions arisen since last night, before they can grow. I don’t think she should come with me.”

“She’ll be recognized,” Garroway replied.

“Precisely. It’s too soon to bring her around the public, especially until we better understand who we’re up against and how many know of her secret.”

My secret . . . the Loreblood. I still didn’t know what to make of this newfound knowledge. Could I truly have such a powerful thing inside me?

It would somewhat explain Master Lukain’s reaction to drinking my blood—his hesitation once he noticed. And his reticence to continue our affair, I thought.

Even with this dangerous new information swirling around my brain, and the illusion of “choice” Skartovius and his kin were giving me, I didn’t trust them as far as I could throw them.

How could I? They watch humans fight for sport.

They feed on us, keep us corralled in Nuhav like livestock.

Nothing they could say would ease the tension and fear I intuitively felt around them after growing up my entire life believing the Olhavians to be monsters.

The truth was even worse: They were beautiful monsters. Elegant, refined, yet coarse in their barbarism. Walking contradictions that seemingly cared for each other—these three being a good example—but cared nothing for the wider world around them or the people suffering in it.

Garroway said, “Could bring her to the mines.”

Vallan grunted from the corner of the room. The massive vampire unfolded his burly arms. “Don’t like that.”

Garroway sneered at him. “We have work to do, Vall. Leaving her here alone is too dangerous.”

“No, we can’t let her out of our sight,” Skartovius agreed. “She’s too important.”

I said, “I thought I had a choice.”

Skartovius tilted his head on the bed, frowning at me. “You have a choice about staying with us or seeking refuge elsewhere. If we’re going to protect you, then there needs to be some ground rules.”

I snorted. “Not much of a choice after all.”

Skartovius swung his legs around, sitting up on the edge of the bed. He nudged his chin over to the heap of the man they’d killed. “Do you want to end up like him?” When I wisely didn’t answer, he nodded. “Then listen to me.”

Thick silence filled the room.

“. . . We still haven’t made a decision,” Garroway pointed out.

“She goes to the mines,” Skartovius answered. He stood, picked up his hood and cloak, and clasped it around his chest with a broach. Then he pulled the hood up. “I shall return to the manor to rest until evening. You three had best do the same.”

“The mines” sounded like a prison. So they’re just going to pop me into another cage, is that it? I didn’t want to ask.

Lord Ashfen marched past his allies, who gave him a wide berth. When he reached the door, he turned to Garroway. “And graybird?”

Garroway glanced up from the floor, attention rapt on his master.

“Don’t let me down with this girl. She’s important to the cause.”

Garroway bowed low like a perfect minion. “I won’t fail you, Master.”

“The cause.”

These three were scheming something. It shouldn’t have surprised me. I had only ever known humans to be the plotters and schemers and hucksters of the sister city, because we were forced to due to our miserable living conditions in Nuhav.

Down there, it was every man for himself.

Entire likeminded communities sprouted up to support those with certain agendas—the religious Truehearts in the House of the Broken, the down-on-their-luck guttergirls and sewerboys who could be easily molded by the Diplomats, the folk with delusions of freedom in the Grimsons, even those hungry for a hint of power and superiority, joining the Bronzes as lawmen.

I figured there were countless other operations, guilds, and gangs carrying out missions in Nuhav.

Up here, in the polished and cultured world of the vampires? I hadn’t expected such drama and gossip to rule the land.

Once Skartovius Ashfen was gone from the safehouse, a noticeable cloud of stress lifted from the room. The three of us remained quiet for a long time as the day dwindled and the sun began to set.

I napped, regained some strength from my draining evening, and prepared for a new one. The other two did the same, in shifts so they could keep an eye on me but also get their rest.

Once night fell, we left the house. Vallan led the way through Olhav, keeping us toward the outskirts while we headed north. The paved streets here were adorned with carriages and nobleblood vampires moseying down the road without a care in the world.

The center of the city—which we hadn’t gotten close to but was impossible to miss due to the countless skyrises reaching to the heavens—was a throng of merchants and tradespeople, just like the bazaars and markets in Nuhav.

Except everyone here was finely dressed and the participants less combative and angry.

No one paid me any attention with my hood on. The outskirts were home to smaller buildings less dizzying and imposing. Taverns and brothels lined the steets—dwellings I was used to—all of which were illuminated by red, orange, and even green lanterns.

I wondered how the light was made green—if it was some trick of the eye, or magic, or alchemical effects. I figured if I stayed long enough in this foreign city, I would discover all I wanted to know about it and more.

I was not a patient person. I wanted answers now. The questions I had for these two were more substantive than asking why the lanterns were colorful.

“Skartovius called me important to ‘the cause.’ What cause?” I asked in a low voice.

From the front, Vallan grunted and continued on. My legs were long, but his stride was punishing to keep up with.

“You’ll learn in time, lass,” Garroway answered, reverting to his more amenable, conversational tone now we were ostensibly alone. Vallan got by on grunts and growls and didn’t seem much of a talker.

“Is there anything you can tell me without fearing backlash from your master?” I asked, annoyed.

“Don’t tell her too much,” Vallan grunted from the front. “Don’t trust her.”

I ground my teeth together. “Feeling is mutual, you big asshole.”

Vallan’s shoulders started to shake, and he made a low noise that sounded something like laughter.

“Ask something else and I’ll see what I can tell you,” Garroway said.

I at least appreciated his willingness to humor me. Despite him giving me up to his master, I trusted him far more than the other two fullblooded bloodsuckers, because I shared something of a history with him.

That’s not saying much. The bar is quite low.

“What are the mines?” I asked. “Where is Vallan leading us?”

Garroway glanced ahead to Vallan’s broad back. He looked to be deferring to the larger vampire.

Vallan waited for a full minute before answering. “There’s a whole other world on the other side of the mountain, silverblood.”

I blinked at his gruff voice and his odd name for me. “I know,” I answered dryly. “It’s called Nuhav. You keep us imprisoned there.”

“No,” Vallan continued. “The other side.”

We made a quick stop at another safehouse, with only Vallan entering. He came out with a gigantic battle-axe strapped to his back.

My eyes widened as he returned to our group and led us down another winding road, an off-shoot of a larger thoroughfare, less inhabited and maintained.

“Expecting trouble?” I asked.

“Can never be too sure.”

As we reached the northern edge of Olhav, the flat valley sloped down onto winding paths through the mountain. Once we began our descent, and I looked out onto a wide expanse of world I’d never seen or known existed, I finally understood what Vallan meant.

The “other side.” Nuhav is the city south of the Olhavian Peaks, tucked away in its shadow. He means the north end.

It had never occurred to me the world continued past the Peaks. I’d always been relegated to the squalid bubble of Nuhav. It was everything I’d ever known.

But even in the darkness, with the moon beginning to take residence in the sky with a tawny glow, I could see .

. . everything beyond. Forests and flatlands, prairies and high grass, rivers and settlements, smoke from little dots that could have been bonfires or chimney fires.

More mountains past everything else. It stretched forever, far as I could see, and the sight was marvelous.

It was all I could do to keep my jaw from dropping. Excitement filled me. I felt like I was getting my first taste of what freedom actually looked like.

It’s out there. Beyond these damnable peaks and valleys. Past this world. The unfathomable unknown.

After scampering down the mountain for nearly an hour and after passing two horse-drawn carts headed up the road toward Olhav, Vallan began speaking again.

“Do you know why the bloodless set down stakes in the Peaks, guarding its passes?”

My brow furrowed. “Bloodless? Do you mean vampires?”

He nodded slightly. “It’s so humans could not get their hands on our one true weakness and use it against us.

” Vallan kept walking, laboring over his choice of words, I could tell, for many minutes before continuing.

“It’s not gold, greed, power, not even sunlight we have to fear.

It’s a simple, foolish fucking thing—a damned metal that by itself is useless.

It’s the entire reason we trade in gold in Olhav, while you wretches trade in copper in Nuhav, and nothing in between.

Its power is such it’s been banned in our city. ”

Vallan was growing agitated. His words sank in, coupled with the phrase, “the mines.” I clenched my teeth, realizing where my future lay—what I needed to get my hands on if I was going to survive this place.

And I spit the word out:

“Silver.”