Page 10 of Of Hearts and Hunters (Fallen Crowns Duet #1)

DARREN

S omething happens to me when Verity speaks those words. If I’m honest with myself, no one really ‘gives a shit’ about me–not anymore. My family thinks I’m dead. The Vampyr Nobility–Gabriel, Pierre, Lenore–would sell my soul to the devil if it meant they could get a leg up on their enemies. If it weren’t for Zander and Terry, I’d feel more lost than I already do. Verity telling me I don’t matter puts the final nail in the coffin (I suppose that’s a bad analogy to use) that is me attempting to be human or make a difference.

“If that’s all,” I sigh, turning on my heel, “I’ve wasted quite enough of my time here.”

Making a deal with a Korama was a bad idea. She needs me much more than I need her. If she wants to kill me for breaking the deal, I guess that doesn’t mean as much to me as it did before.

Verity is suddenly in front of me, making me jump. “Seriously?” She raises an eyebrow. “You’re that sensitive?”

I say nothing.

“Look, I hate to say it–even think it–but I need your help,” she attempts to confess.

“Then you have an interesting way of showing it,” I counter.

I suppose I thought Verity and I were connecting–inasmuch as one can connect with someone as fiery as her. It seemed like we each lacked belonging, despite our respective ranks in our factions. Something in her actions tells me there’s sadness or hollowness behind the anger and relentless snark. I may not have the same temperament as her, but I can relate to the emptiness. That was why I agreed to help her–aside from the utterings of homicide.

But maybe I was wrong.

Wiping rainwater off of her soaking wet face, Verity looks conflicted for a brief moment. “Fine,” she huffs. “I’ll ease up–sort of.”

“And you’ll refrain from killing me?” I check.

“That depends.” She stares me down, despite the height difference. She’s even standing on her toes as if she’s trying to make herself appear bigger. “Can I trust you?”

“Can I trust you ?” I counter.

It’s a stalemate as we watch one another for the slightest movement or shift in body language.

I know she won’t be the first one to back down, so I uncross my arms and nod my head. “You can trust me,” I assure her.

Verity places one hand on her hip and uses her free hand to wipe her face once again. “Same goes,” she finally agrees.

I hold my hand out. “Let’s shake on it,” I suggest.

She frowns down at my hand like I’m offering her an animal carcass as a gift. “Excuse me?”

“I want this official,” I go on. “Our alliance. Trusting each other. Our kindness pact.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Oh, fine,” she groans, holding her hand out to take mine in a hasty flourish.

Our wet hands touch, my larger fingers tentatively going over her smaller ones. I am anticipating her throwing her hand back and yanking my heart out of my chest (though she implied she wouldn’t do that), so I am cautious.

Her heartbeat abruptly quickens. I can hear it over the cracking thunder and deafening rain. I fight back the urge to grab hold of her and sink my teeth into her neck. The image of the sprawled-out Korama I murdered in cold blood spreads a wet blanket of sobriety over me, and the urge is gone–for now.

I’ve been a Vampyr long enough to know that the desire for blood is never too far away. But we have a deal, a truce. I won’t cause her any harm. Not only that, I consider her a–friend? Ally? I’m not sure she’d enjoy the former term, but I still feel like we have more in common than is obvious to an outsider. Even if she tried to kill me just a handful of days ago, there’s something about our partnership that is good for both of us. If we can somehow make a difference in this three-way faction war, then our alliance, our existence, will have meant something.

Pulling her hand away, Verity eyes me defensively before motioning to my right hand, the one I outstretched to her. “Show me the bracelet.” It’s more akin to a demand than a request.

I hold out my wrist, using my left hand to remove the fabric of my soaked sweater that’s sticking to my body like super glue. Verity’s brown eyes land on the golden bracelet as soon as it’s visible.

“Give it to me,” she continues, yanking it off of me before I can protest.

“I need it back,” I protest breathlessly as she turns it over in her hands as if she’s looking for a clue of some kind.

“Relax,” she responds off-handedly, still concentrating on the piece of jewellery. “This is fucking spelled, alright. Beneath the vamp stench–sorry”–she stops to look up at me before getting back to the bracelet– “is a Magicena scent.”

“Every Vampyr in the Queen’s inner circle has one,” I report as Verity hands it back to me. I reapply the bracelet without looking at what I’m doing. I have to say that my reflexes and dexterity have improved (for the most part) since turning.

Verity arches a brow. “All of them?”

“Everyone important–according to Lenore,” I confirm.

“So the common vamps don’t get one?” Verity frowns, folding her arms and fixing her stance.

“Correct,” I tell her.

Verity shuffles in place. “Okay. So, the Queen is doing some kind of secret deal with Andre.”

“Il Sovrano,” I realize. “I don’t think the other Vampyrs in the city know about our spelled trinkets. All they know is that we can walk in the day, which makes them want to be one of us.”

“And I bet the Queen likes having everyone kiss her ass in order to get ‘em,” Verity finishes my train of thought by asserting.

I hold back a laugh. “It appears you know her well.”

“It’s not that hard,” Verity scoffs, rolling her eyes. “She’s always been like that. And now we know how she’s been getting away with it all this time.” She frowns. “But what about the attacks on the vamps by the sparklies?” she asks, maybe more to herself than to me. I’m assuming by ‘sparklies,’ she is referring to the Magicena.

“Could it have been a cover-up?” I theorize.

She shakes her head in dismissal. “No. We heard that a bunch of vamps got killed. We saw proof when we did our next raid on the following full moon.”

I hesitate. “Well…” I sigh. “The Queen or her court were quick to use me as bait the night you attacked. If they’re able to do that, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind the slaughter of some of their own to disguise a secret allegiance.”

Verity scowls up at me.

“What did I say?” I ask, thinking she misunderstood me.

“D’you always have to sound like a know-it-all prick?” she breathes, sounding exasperated. She must remember our ceasefire discussion from earlier because she clears her throat and adds, “Darren.”

It’s difficult for her to call me by my first name. I doubt she’s ever addressed Vampyrs formally, or even civilly, before.

“That makes it all better,” I groan.

I’m surprised to see her smile–but it’s obviously at my expense. “Oh, settle down,” she grumbles as if I’m too sensitive. “I gave your bracelet back, didn’t I?”

“Because you still need me,” I remind her.

“God help me,” she mutters under her breath, but I hear her, plain as day.

“Religious, are you?” I inquire, causing her to frown up at me again, annoyed I overheard her.

“Okay. New plan,” she changes the subject by saying. “Are you going to that party thing?”

“On Valentine’s Day?” I pinpoint. “Yes. I wasn’t lying before.”

Verity nods. “Okay. It’ll be a big-ass affair. We can meet up after some chill time so it doesn’t look suspicious. We’ll see if we can get evidence of the Queen and Andre in cahoots with each other.”

It’ll be a big-ass affair.

After some chill time, so it doesn’t look suspicious.

In cahoots with each other.

“What the hell is so funny?” she growls.

“Nothing,” I respond. “Your vocabulary is just–interesting, is all.”

She crosses her arms over her chest again. “Not all of us have degrees coming out of our asses.”

I laugh hard at that. It’s compelling, how she picked up on my education without any mention of it. She is smarter than she lets on, and I wonder if that is on purpose. “Alright. I never meant to make you feel inferior.”

“You’re a vamp. You always mean it,” she is quick to retort, once again realizing her error and adding, “Sorry.”

“Well, I’ll see you next week, unless there’s anything else you’d like to insult me for, or more bears to fight off,” I announce.

Verity turns to check the shadows eerily coating our conversation. I know I’m a Vampyr, but it’s not necessarily my go-to thought when I’m in danger. Maybe it’s because I was human such a short time ago. Whatever the reason, I’ve been feeling less on edge since she told me the bear was no longer closing in on us.

“Get going, before you’re discovered,” she tells me. “No one else is out here, but I need to report back in a few. If I’m late, the Kormi will circle back to check on me.”

She looks trapped all of a sudden, like she is regretting telling me that.

“Verity,” I tell her. “I’m not out to get you or your superiors.” I remember too late that she doesn’t like being called by her full name so I quickly add, “I’m sorry. What can I call you if you don’t like–”

“Whatever,” she dismisses, stepping back from me. “It’s not like we’ll be meeting up for much longer. Just watch yourself getting back.”

I nod. “You, too.”

She stops mid-pace and turns, looking over her shoulder at me. “Are you serious?” she questions in disbelief. “I’m on Korama land. You’re the one who has to move it or lose it.”

I suppose she’s right. I could be discovered at any moment.

I make sure Verity disappears safely behind the trees several yards ahead of me before I slink back into the darkness, hoping I can return to Vampyr Territory without my kind (how uncomfortable is that to think?) or hers discovering me.