Page 25

GIVE ME A LITTLE CREDIT

SEBASTIAN

“ I t’s about time you took me on a field trip,” Grace declares as we near the courtyard entrance.

Her blonde hair is loose at her shoulders, and despite her simple outfit of a white tank top and brown shorts, she looks stunning.

She’s too good looking. Too tempting. Too enticing, even when she’s not making sense.

“A field what ?” I ask.

“Oh right, I forgot,” she says, voice falling flat. “I’m in the land of un-fun, where people kill each other and no one goes on fun school adventures.”

I don’t fight the smile that tugs my lips.

“A field trip, Sebastian , is something normal people do to make learning fun,” she says. “Like, in fifth grade, my class went to the state capitol to learn about politics. Then, in ninth grade, we did an overnight camp to learn about the environment or biology or something like that.”

“Sounds like you retained a lot.”

“Oh shush. It was fun ,” Grace says, grinning. “You know you’re just jealous of the human experience.”

I am most certainly not, but I can’t bring myself to say it. I’m too busy enjoying her. The way she rolls her eyes. The lightness of her steps. Things are getting better, I decide. After months of tension, we’re finally getting past her unwavering hatred of me.

I pause as we reach the courtyard entrance.

Stepping in front of Grace, I peer into the quiet yard.

My followers sit around the stone table, and even from here, I can tell they’re sated.

I’d instructed they over-feed before this meeting, and it’s clear they listened.

Theo looks full to the point of nausea. Better than even the smallest amount of hunger.

“They’ve all fed,” I inform Grace, turning toward her. “If you feel threatened though, tell me.”

“Okay,” she says, voice soft. Her relaxed expression from moments ago is gone. Now, there is only uncertainty and terror as she looks over the inner circle. “You haven’t told me what we’re doing. Is this…are we breaking the curse now ?”

“No,” I say, startled. “Of course not. It’s not time yet.”

“Okay,” she says again. Her lip trembles as she speaks. “When the time does come, can you just…will you?—”

“I will tell you,” I say. “I promise.”

I touch her chin without thinking, without considering. It’s meant to be a comforting gesture, but I should know better. Grace recoils, as if my touch physically hurts. I drop my hand, forcing my eyes back to the courtyard. After an uncomfortable beat of silence, I clear my throat.

“Come,” I say.

I lead her across the cobblestone, and past my statue, thankful when she doesn’t comment on it.

As we approach the table, my inner circle finishes their conversations.

Oskar and Theo abandon a piece of parchment between them.

Amelia brushes off Milas’s final attempt at flirting.

Beatrice stares at me, eyes flitting to my hand on Grace’s back.

Luckily, she doesn’t glower like I expect .

“We will make this brief,” I say.

I stop at the head of the table, opposite Oskar. Milas, Amelia, Theo, and Beatrice fill the seats on either side.

“Glad to see you’re all fed,” I continue. “Keep your movements slow and steady. Anyone makes a move for her, I’ll kill you. Understood?”

“Yes, Master,” they echo.

“It won’t be a problem,” Beatrice says. She sits near Oskar, her eyes flitting between me and Grace. Her expression is carefully blank as she nods at me. “I vow it, Master.”

“Good,” I say. I sit and gesture for Grace to do the same. Her leg bounces hard enough to shake her chair, and though my fingers itch to comfort her, I resist. “Everyone, this is Grace. Last descendant. Curse breaker.”

Whether she realizes it or not, Grace lifts her chin and straightens her posture. It takes all my effort not to smile.

“Grace, this is my innermost circle,” I continue.

Pointing at each, I quickly run through their roles.

“Oskar manages everything within the manor. Milas scouts throughout the Echo for resources and contacts. Amelia works as our vampiric representative in the Night Realm and the Echo at large. Beatrice trains the military. Theo, our newest member, helps where needed. Once we break the curse, he’ll eventually hold a military position, as well. ”

Grace nods along, body stiff, but eyes alert. I force myself not to focus on her and instead address my followers.

“We’re a long way from breaking the curse,” I say. “Many uncertainties remain, particularly where Grace is concerned. For now, it’s important we ensure we are ready, the moment the curse falls.”

I rummage a scrap of parchment from my coat pocket. Cora’s swirled handwriting covers both sides, and I pass it to Milas .

“Cora has finished her list of needed ingredients,” I say as he reviews it. “Have it all collected by the end of next week.”

“Yes, Master,” he says, dipping his head.

I return the nod and continue the meeting, touching on only the most pressing of matters.

Grace watches with intense curiosity, eyebrows scrunching as we switch from topic to topic.

I can almost imagine the questions she’s stacking within her mind.

I’m sure I’ll hear every one of them before the day is through.

When Grace stiffens beside me, it takes me a moment to figure out why. Oskar’s partway through his list of projects, but he’s moved on from simply housekeeping needs.

“At least three,” he’s saying. “Five would be better though. We could open an additional feeding in the early morning. As it is, we’re too crowded during the seven o’clock…”

I’m barely listening to Oskar. I’m too focused on the way Grace breathes, the way her heart thrums erratically in her chest. I keep my eyes focused on my oldest follower, but my attention belongs wholly to her.

Her soft hand brushes against mine. At first, I assume it’s a mistake. Then, her fingers touch mine again, and this time, she closes her hand over my knuckles. She squeezes, hard enough it would hurt me, were I human. When I look over, I can’t decide if she’s trying not to cry or scream.

I twist my wrist, trying to take her palm in mine. I’m not sure why. I’ve never held hands with a woman, not even for basic comfort.

It doesn’t matter. The moment our palms touch, Grace’s slips away. She moves both hands to the table and refuses to meet my gaze for the rest of the meeting.

Once the meeting is over and we’re alone in the sunlit courtyard, I turn to Grace.

She’s purposefully avoiding my gaze. She studies my statue, mouth curving downward, disgusted by the stone version of me.

I’m disgusted by him too. It’s his fault we ended up here, cursed by the witches, damned to eternal darkness.

“Grace,” I say softly.

“I grabbed your hand,” she says. She speaks each word like a curse, like she’s committed an unthinkable, unforgivable crime.

“Yes,” I say. I don’t fight my smile. None of the others are around to see it anyway. “You did.”

“I shouldn’t have,” she says. She’s still looking at the damn statue.

“I didn’t mind.” It’s more honest than I should be, but Grace only scoffs.

“ I minded,” she snaps. “I’m here because of you. You stole me from my life. You’re keeping me here, and no matter what you say, I already know…You’re going to use me just like you use those bloodletters. Strip me naked and cut my flesh, drink from me until there’s nothing left.”

“No one is going to touch you, Grace,” I say. My voice is a rough growl. “I know I can’t give you what you want. I can’t let you go. But I swear , I am not going to kill you. All right? Once this is over, you’re free. I promise.”

A lone tear streaks down her cheek. We came here immediately after she showered. She’s not wearing makeup, and her exhaustion shines without it.

“What do you want me to do?” I ask. There’s an unpleasant burning sensation in my chest. I can’t explain it. It’s not because I feel bad . I don’t feel bad. I’m not sure I have in my centuries of existence.

“I don’t know,” she says. She sounds as tired as I feel. She’s still avoiding my gaze as she rises, but I catch a glimpse of her eyes. Pale blue, like ice, like the frigid depths of winter.

She wordlessly crosses the courtyard. I’m a step behind her, hands in my pockets.

It’s still early, so most of the house is tucked away in their rooms. Vampires don’t need sleep, but ever since the curse, many of them do.

They live their lives during the night hours, only to sleep once the sun rises.

We easily maneuver through the hallways, and I let Grace lead most of the way. It is only when we near Cora’s wing that I press a hand to her lower back. She stops, looking over her shoulder at me.

Through the window, the sun shines on her blonde hair, making it almost white. Stunningly, stupidly beautiful.

“What?” she asks. Molten, fire-dipped blue stares at me, daring me to pick a fight. Inexplicably, I’m tempted. I prefer this, this anger , over the withdrawn, absent hue.

“Do you want to see?” I ask.

She raises an eyebrow.

“The bloodletters,” I clarify. I work my jaw, questioning my own sanity, but pressing forward anyway. “If you want, I’ll show you them. They’re not stripped naked. They’re not devoured alive. It’s a transaction. Controlled. Safe. Efficient. They’re all paid, all here by their own volition.”

She swallows, and her gaze drifts toward the nearest windows. I want to ask what she’s thinking. Is she pretending she’s somewhere far from this horrible place, far from me ?

“We have to feed,” I tell her, as if she doesn’t know this. I’m sure she can hear the desperate, almost frantic tone in my voice, so I squash it. Guilt, shame, is for the weak. I am many things, but I am not weak. “We need blood or we’ll die. But we’re not monsters.”

Not anymore , I add silently. Not since the witches stole that option.

“Okay,” she says.