Page 48

Skartovius took me upstairs to a hallway filled with doors that opened into bedrooms. Keffa followed us, which I was oddly thankful for since I was a little worried about being alone with Lord Ashfen in a bedroom.

Not worried about what Skartovius might try to do, but because of what I might be unable to stop myself from doing. Also, it wasn’t exactly appropriate to tell the lady of the manor she was unwelcome in her own home.

We went into the first empty room. Skartovius pulled out a chair to sit on. I took the edge of the bed. Keffa posted up against a wall, away from us.

“Her name is Alacine Mortis,” Skartovius started.

“The Mistress of Webs,” Keffa spat from the corner.

Skar nodded. “She is the overlady of the Intelligence Ministry and, more importantly, Lukain’s mother.”

I sucked in a sharp breath.

“Lukain?” Keffa said incredulously. “Haven’t heard that mangy name in some time. How is the bast—”

“Stop it,” I cut in, seething. “Don’t talk about him like that. Lukain was my master.”

Her brow scrunched. “You were enthralled to him?”

“Well, no . . .”

“He’s gone, Iron Sister, to answer your question,” Skartovius said in a serious voice, shutting up the woman.

His red-gold eyes fell on me, piercing through the surprise on my face.

“It is rare for a vampiress to bear a child from a human man, Sephania. Especially for one whose blood is as rich and noble as Alacine’s. ”

“That’s why you called him Lukain Mortis and not Pierken.” I breathed as things fell into place. I did know it was much more common for human women to be broodstock. Lukain had told me as much. Never told me his own father was one though!

Skartovius leaned back in his chair. He folded his hands in his lap.

“Lukain Mortis was a shunned man. A bastard twice over, never brought into the public eye in Olhav due to Alacine’s position.

He was relegated to Nuhav, essentially banished to the flesh houses and underground dens, where you found him.

But a mother’s mark holds weight, and Spymistress Mortis helped her son where she could. Always in secret.”

I tilted my head, sensing the tutor inside Skartovius was pausing to let me come to the correct conclusion. That would explain Lukain’s hatred for vampires. They shunned and exiled him, through no fault of his own.

“. . . You believe Lukain was trying to give me to his mother to earn his way back into Olhav,” I ventured, “with renewed status and power.”

Skartovius nodded slowly. His upper lip twitched, he clenched his jaw. “Which is also how I know Lukain must have tasted you, in order for him to understand your blood. A trophy of such stature, falling into his lap, would have been impossible for an ambitious dhampir to ignore.”

“You didn’t know him like I did,” I snapped. As ever, the defiance in my tone outweighed every logical thought in my mind. He was distant after we made love and tasted each other’s blood. So distant. Practically forgetting I even existed.

There was no denying any of that, but I wasn’t about to spill those truths to Lord Ashfen and Iron Sister Keffa. “The night of the shadowgala, when you fought and killed him, you said he tried to kill you first,” I said. “Why?”

“Because I murdered his father.”

I reeled. “Shit.”

“Indeed.”

“Why?”

“ Why is not important for this discussion,” Skar replied. “What are important are the facts, the most important fact being he had every motive to see me staked through the heart.”

“Yet you invited him into Manor Marquin as a guest ? Was it some sort of cruel joke to you, pitting us fighters against each other for the amusement of your bloodsucker court, while he traipsed and announced to you on your throne like he was your jester?”

Skartovius clenched his jaw in what looked like barely restrained fury. The wrath glinted in his eyes yet he kept his temper in check. “Shadowgalas are expected from a nobleblood of my stature, little temptress, to keep up appearances.”

“Yes, and you’re all about appearances, Lord Ashfen.” My tone was one of disgust and anger.

Skartovius growled, “Of course I am. There are things at work larger than you, me, or Lukain Mortis. Toiling from the shadows is the only way to make things work in Olhav. You will learn that.”

Not if I burn it all down first.

The thought came to me like a spear to the gut, shocking me with its intensity.

“Avoiding the Five Ministries while we work is the only way to topple said Ministries,” he added.

“I didn’t know Lukain knew I had killed his father.

Not until he snuck into my room that evening to try and assassinate me.

He was overconfident, of course, but I admired his audacity, to keep attending my galas over the years with that secret fueling his rage. ”

My boiling anger simmered at his last words, realizing it answered my question. If Skartovius is telling the truth, employing the Grimsons wasn’t some cruel jest. It was business as usual. Skar didn’t know Lukain was harboring thoughts of revenge.

We stared at each other for a drawn-out moment, the fury on our faces receding the longer we glared.

Keffa cleared her throat from the corner. “I am glad this family spat has been adjudicated, but we have more pressing matters, you two. It’s the reason I asked to see her, Master Ashfen.”

“That’s Lord Ashfen,” Skar growled, keeping his eyes narrowed at me.

Keffa rolled her eyes and sighed. “The Loreblood, sir. More important than any of this squawking.”

At mention of the word, I glanced over. “What of it, Sister Caernyd? Skar said you could tell me more about the Loreblood than he knows.”

Keffa shook her head and pushed off from the wall with another heavy sigh. “ I can’t, Madame. But there is something that can tell you more than any Chained Sister knows, right here in Olhav.”

I jolted up straighter, my heart suddenly hammering. “What is it?”

“The Relic.” She held a hand up before I could reply, chuckling. “I know, I know. A lackluster, unoriginal name. The Relic was once a great treasure to the Chained Sisters, before my time. It is said to be a font of infinite wisdom and knowledge pertaining to the Loreblood.”

My knees bounced excitedly. “Where is this Relic? Where can I find it?”

Keffa shared a glance with Skartovius. He angled his head slightly and she continued. “The Relic is said to sit among the vaults of the ten-story Tanmount compound in the Commerce Ward, stuffed away with other glittering treasures the Gilded Liege hoards.”

“The Gilded Liege?”

“Liolen Sesk, interfolk overliege of the Commerce Ward,” Skar answered. “One of the Five Ministries we plan to topple.”

I started, eyes bulging. “An interfolk nobleblood ?”

He smirked. “The wealthiest in all the land, in fact. Ironic, isn’t it?”

Yes, it was cruelly ironic because the transitioned folk of Nuhav and Olhav had historically been treated worse than any other group. Except perhaps in the silver mines, the sole area where they are treated like any other worker. Still not much better than slaves though.

Shearing through me was the thought of Ethera’s blood gushing out of her ruined neck in a gout of red. I shivered and shook the thought from my mind, grabbing my head to make the vision stop.

“This is all fascinating and dandy,” I said, throwing my arms out. “But what are we supposed to do against the richest vampire in Olhav and one of the leaders of the Five Ministries? Politely ask him to hand over the Relic?”

Skar’s smile widened into a wicked grin. “No, love. We’re going to steal it.”