Page 47

Chapter 46

Adeline

D ozens of vampires swarmed the ballroom, twirling and spinning, their masks glinting under the chandeliers that blazed above. Glamoured fae musicians sat in the corner, their eyes glazed over, staring vacantly as their fingers moved magically along their instruments.

Adeline sat on a throne next to Erik as the guest of honor. She didn’t miss the irony that he had chosen these seats tonight and placed them together on a dais, overlooking the crowd below. The arch above looked eerily similar to the standing stones that had been near her home.

The ones she had played beneath as a child. The ones she had used to send Leda to another world.

He’s trying to throw you off . It’s just an illusion.

Decorations spanned the entire room, and large columns were magicked to look like stones covered in vines. Adeline forced herself to look as the shadows beneath the vines moved, seemingly on their own, stretching and unfurling, completely separate from the illusion magic Erik had placed on the room. She blinked a few times and then looked away.

The layers of the dress swathed her in itchy fabric, and sweat trickled down her back. The mask stuck to her face, and the veil kept her breath hot and trapped beneath the gauze. Her neck had healed after she drank from Rolf, so she had chosen the gaudiest necklace she could find to hide the lack of scarring. It spanned up her neck like a collar and cascaded around her décolletage with a spiderweb array of diamonds and pearls. It matched the detailing on her dress almost perfectly, but now it felt like a heavy hand gripping her throat, trying to strangle the last breath of life from her.

Erik was sending her a particular message about the entire evening. In the past, she would have either fought back or gone along with everything. It all depended on how Erik had treated her upon her return: Was she welcomed, or was she admonished?

But she was in uncharted territory and had no map, save for treasure at the end—the feel of Erik’s blood as it splattered on her face.

Don’t think about how good it will feel .

Erik could read her like a book, so she shoved everything down. Any emotion, any thought had to be locked away so tightly that he would be unable to read her.

She had decided, while Juliette helped her with getting dressed and the finishing touches, that she would be apathetic to every single thing that happened tonight. If he hit her, she wouldn’t react. If he broke her bones, he wouldn’t get so much as a peep. In the past, when she had shut down, he would send Campbell into the cell to do his bidding. But that was only after Erik had lost his temper.

Tonight, she would do the same; become numb to whatever he threw at her. Drive him mad. He would make a mistake then, and she could strike.

Erik’s nasally voice snapped her back to reality. It had a way of slicing right under her skin.

“Drink,” Erik chided, gesturing to the cup in Adeline’s hand.

Not this again. She hid her disdain by bringing the cup to her lips, opening them enough to let the tiniest amount in. The sickly sludge coated her mouth as she pretended to drink until Erik grunted with satisfaction.

Her stomach swirled from the sip as the liquid slunk down her throat.

Erik stared at her as if he was unsatisfied with how much she had drunk, so she lifted her cup again and took another sip. And then another. Finally pleased, Erik looked away.

Everything inside her screamed to purge, but the theatrics would only spoil her plans. She glanced at the tall windows to her right, willing her stomach to keep the drink down. The waning moon climbed higher in the night sky, its ascent painfully slow.

Two hours left. She could manage anything for two hours. Rolf still needed time to free the fae servants below.

Outside, a thick layer of fog swirled at the cliff’s edge, the sea spray mixing with the cooler air. Large sycamore and elm trees drooped over each other, their branches entwined like craggy limbs. She used to hate how twisted they looked, their sharp bends like a warning for anyone trying to leave. But tonight, they looked like they were reaching for her, trying to draw her out of the infested nest. It almost looked like they were beckoning her home.

How pretty the castle will be from those trees as it goes up in flames, she thought.

Erik kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, and it made her want to lunge at his throat and tear him limb from limb. But she couldn’t act out of anger. She couldn’t let her emotions get the better of her. Because then she would fuck everything up, and Rolf needed time and Erik needed to believe that they were going to mate. Besides, his desire to be the center of attention, to have all the control, to be the most powerful wherever he went, dictated that if he was going to do something, then he would do it here. In front of all of his spawn.

She just needed to last until midnight.

“I’ve asked Juliette to join us later,” Erik said. He watched Adeline closely for a reaction.

He knows. Adeline feigned interest. “Oh?”

“When I requested her presence, she was noticeably distraught.”

“Was she?” Adeline looked around the room. What is he playing at?

“Yes,” Erik said, drawing out the word as he dragged a finger down Adeline’s bare arm. She shivered involuntarily but forced herself not to flinch. “What did you say to her, Little Killer?”

What hadn’t she said? Adeline waved her hand dismissively. “Only the truth about mating between vampires.”

Erik stiffened and withdrew his hand.

What does he know that I don’t? What she told Juliette was a lie, a convenient, manipulative lie. She had never found any literature on the subject of vampire mates. In all honesty, for all she knew, vampires could have multiple mates, since the practice was so unheard of. She hated being out of the loop; it made her blood boil.

Blood . Her fangs threatened to come in, and she tongued the sharp ends. Yes, she would relish the way Erik’s blood would coat her face as she tore his heart from his chest with her claws.

“Let’s dance.” Erik’s nasally voice cut through her thoughts. He stood and turned to her, holding out his hand. He smiled, and she couldn’t help but think how enjoyable it would be to break his teeth.

She kept her voice flat and placed her hand in his. “As you will it.”

Impatience rumbled under Adeline’s skin as they walked down the red carpet to the center of the ballroom. She stumbled a bit down the stairs, her head slowly starting to pound with a mounting pressure behind her eyes.

A headache? When was the last time she had one of those? She closed her eyes, trying to think of the last time her head felt so affected. Newly minted into the life of a vampire, Adeline had found an injured fae asleep in an alleyway, shivering and close to death, and sank her teeth into its flesh, drinking it dry. The result was several days’ worth of illness on her end—a raging headache, an upset stomach, and full-body shivers. When she had asked Erik about it, he told her that perhaps the fae creature had taken some kind of medicine that disagreed with her system. The feeling passed less than a week later, but it was the beginning of her realization that she should never drink from fae. Especially without their consent. The effects were too risky.

When she opened her eyes again, the brightness of the room was blinding. She focused on the nearest thing to her, which, unfortunately for her, was Erik. Through her mask, she saw his eyes meet hers, and he flashed her a smug smile; nothing in his expression emanated anything kind. But why would it? He was here for one thing and one thing only.

A chill walked down her spine, its long, cold fingers landing firmly between her shoulder blades. She wondered, briefly, if this is what it felt like moments before her countless victims all met their ends at her hands. Or teeth.

This was a dance to her imminent death.

Not mine, his. His, she reminded herself.

The knife she had slipped into her corset dug into her ribs, a reminder that she wasn’t unarmed as Erik’s arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. His hand tightened on hers, and the chains forced her to keep her left palm plastered on his chest.

If only this were Rolf instead.

Erik’s rank breath filled the space between them, reeking of staleness and putrefaction—the skin and blood of his victims left uncleaned between his teeth. She turned her head, trying not to gag at the scent, and stared off into the distance, fighting the sensation of dizziness that threatened to overwhelm her.

“Bored already, Little Killer?” Erik asked. His hand tightened around hers.

Adeline didn’t answer for fear the drink had loosened her tongue. Feigning apathy was going to be harder than she thought.

“I have been looking for Campbell all evening,” Erik said, his eyes boring a hole into the side of her head. “Funnily enough, he seems to have gone missing.”

“That would be because I killed him.”

Damnit . The drink had loosened her tongue, for that was one secret she shouldn’t have revealed.

He said nothing in return. The only way she knew she had caught him off guard was when his fingers spasmed against her hand.

Before she could register whether that was out of shock or annoyance, he spun her around, whipping her about like she was a rag doll. She let him. The chains clinked, and her left hand pulled across her chest awkwardly. His hand tightened around hers so hard she felt some of its bones break. Her hand throbbed, but he didn’t let go.

Small price to pay. She could withstand anything tonight, resisting everything until the time was just right.

Her mask slipped a few times with the vigor of his movements. But Erik would adjust it for her, letting his fingers linger along the curve of her earlobe. She had to suppress a full-body shiver each time and refrain from the desire to bite off one of his fingers.

They danced in silence for what felt like hours. So long that her feet started to ache. And then, not only did they ache, but they also started to blister. She paid them no mind because each time they took a turn about the floor, Adeline saw shadows coming to life around her. Tendrils curled toward her across the ballroom floor, trying to grab at the hem of her dress, only to recoil when she focused on them.

Erik twirled her about, spinning her around until the room swirled with her. If he was hoping to shake her up, it would take far more than a few broken bones in her hand, the ache in her feet, and the constant spinning on the dance floor.

The musicians played on. Never stopping. The vampires around them faded into the background. She felt herself slipping into a trance, disconnecting from the stench of Erik’s breath, the pain in her broken hand, the blistering of her feet.

“I tire of this,” Erik said. He dropped her hand, turned, and headed back up to the dais, leaving her in the middle of the dance floor.

Adeline said nothing. Felt everything. Another vampire in a black mask grabbed her hands and spun her around. Then he passed her to another, and still another, until the room swirled and blurred. Each time she tried to leave the dance floor, another vampire would swoop in and spin her.

The musicians played on. Her shoes began to fill with blood as the blisters rubbed off and the sensitive skin underneath split open.

Vampires swirled around her. Dizziness threatened to consume her, so she tilted her head back, focusing on the chandeliers. Candlelight flickered above her, and strange shadows crawled along the rafters like vines. Their long fingers stretched down, trying to reach her, and she wasn’t entirely convinced this wasn’t another illusion from Erik.

He had always been powerful, but if he was able to illusion the castle and get the shadows to move like this, what else was he capable of? No vampire she knew had magic this expansive, this powerful.

Finally, the music slowed, and Erik clapped his hands. The vampires all followed suit, their monotonous clapping filling the room with thunderous applause. She took that break as her chance to finally slip away. With a deep inhale, she steeled herself against the searing pain in her feet, grabbed her skirts, and headed over to the table of food by the tall windows. Carafes of red liquid were surrounded by dozens upon dozens of fresh pastries. Stacks of plates sat at the far end, as if Erik wanted to pretend everyone here was still human, but they were left untouched.

She thought it odd that the other vampires never enjoyed eating the food of humans after they had been turned. Sure, blood was the only thing that sustained them, but Adeline still delighted in the occasional dessert. Who wouldn’t, when they were filled with rich cream and sugared berries, and dusted with powdered sugar—all decadent things she’d never had as a girl.

Erik demanded fresh food to be put on display every day. But no one would eat it, and it would be sent below. Oftentimes, it would be stale and moldy by the time it reached the enslaved fae servants. It disgusted her, and it was one of the many reasons she hated living in this place when she was done with her assignments.

She opened her mouth to take a bite out of a pastry when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a blond blur push through the crowd on the dance floor. Adeline pivoted slightly, the pastry forgotten in her hand. Her feet screamed when she shifted her weight, trying to watch sidelong as Juliette rushed up to Erik.

Erik’s face fell when Juliette bent down and whispered something in his ear. A mask of calm lethality replaced his mask of mild indifference. His eyes scanned the crowd, and before he could meet her gaze, Adeline turned back to the table.

He knows .

Every part of her screamed to kill him now. Be done with it. Slash his throat. Feel his blood on her face as she ripped him to shreds. She braced her hands against the boning of her corset. The knife was still there. It would be easy for her to slide it out from between her breasts once she got Erik alone. She still had enough strength left from drinking Rolf’s blood—it would last her well into the early morning hours. But her heart raced, and she realized at that moment that she was terrified. The stakes were so high tonight, and what would happen should she fail? Who would suffer this time?

These were questions she wasn’t used to answering. Even when she was killing the were-shifters, trying to free herself from Erik’s iron-fisted grip, she never once considered the ramifications of her kills.

But now? Something had changed her.

Not something, but some one.

Rolf.

Acting impulsively wouldn’t only affect her if she failed this time. No, it would be the servants and Rolf. Even Juliette—as much as she didn’t want to believe her ex-lover had ill intentions, she still would never be able to reconcile with her conscience should she leave Juliette in Erik’s clutches, again. They were all at risk should she act out of turn. She couldn’t risk any of that. And if she failed, she would never be free again—that she knew for a fact. She had to be successful tonight, she had to time things perfectly. Because if she were unsuccessful in killing Erik, he would, in turn, kill anyone who tried to help her. Then he would lock Adeline up and torture her for the rest of her eternal life.

Shadows swirled around her ankles, caressing her skin as they slid toward the table. Where did they come from? She blinked a few times, trying to clear her vision, but each time she did, the table changed from being laden with pastries to holding dismembered and discolored body parts. She blinked a few more times before realizing she was witnessing one of Erik’s illusions. Which one was real? The body parts or the pastries?

The shadows crept up the table, covering the pastries, and when they did, it was like the fabric of the world came undone beneath her. She reached her hand forward, grabbed the pastry she had picked up earlier, and passed it underneath one of the shadowy vines. As she did so, the pastry in the shadows turned into the rotting big toe of some fae creature. On the other side of the shadow, it returned to a pastry, but Adeline’s hand remained the same—whether she was passing through the shadow vine or not.

Her stomach lurched.

No wonder no one else is eating…

Disgust filled her bones, and she gathered up her skirts, determined to finally end Erik’s sick sense of control now. He was a disease that needed to be stamped out before his power got stronger, and Adeline would rather go down fighting to get free than see him get stronger. She took a deep breath and turned back to face the dance floor. She had to find Erik before the feeding she had from Rolf wore off. Already, she could feel the sludgy drink in her stomach trying to flood out what was left of her mate’s blood. But when she spun to face the dais where Erik had been, everything looked different.

The dais was gone, and so were the thrones. The ballroom was devoid of wedding decorations. The vampires, still masked and dancing, didn’t seem to notice that the chandeliers hung lower, or the columns that had been standing stones were now back to their original facade of gold-veined marble. She took a step forward, eager to find her maker in the sea of dancing bodies and plunge a knife into his heart.

A hand clamped down on her shoulder, claws digging into the delicate skin at her shoulder. Hot breath brushed against her neck. “Where do you think you’re going?”