by Rebecca Main
Ruby casts her gaze to the little pearl shell hexagon tiles that adorn the floor. They gleam under the wall sconces light. “Let me guess,” I venture, heart in my throat as my hand slips back into the water. “Iris was conveniently in hearing range of this admission.”
Her silence is all the answer I need. I swear and set my sights on the vanity to my left. The glossy white surface holds a light sheen of moisture to it from my steamy bath. But around me, the water begins to cool, losing its scorching and soothing touch. Even the bubbles start to diminish.
“We’re so close, Irina. I couldn’t let Sebastian’s work get derailed.”
“So you used me.” My tongue feels like lead as I speak the words. A tender numbing feeling eclipses my trust. Am I really surprised by her betrayal? I tell myself I’m not because she’s a vampyré, but it hurts nonetheless.
“I’m sorry,” Ruby says, her voice overcome with sorrow. “I knew I could count on Iris’s prejudices to override her resentment toward our family.”
I let the water slip up to the bottom of my chin as I turn my gaze back toward Ruby. Her shoulders are slumped forward, and the room’s steam frizzes her pin-straight bob. “You can count on a lot of vampyrés to have that prejudice,” I remark dryly. I fold my arms over my chest. “What is her problem? Why does she hate the Vranas so much?”
“Ren was her sire. They blame Jakob for her death.” Mouth agape, I stare at Ruby. “I don’t know the exact story of their arrival, only that Ren was their sire... and a neglectful one.”
“Oh.”
Ruby searches my face with a dedicated frown marring her pretty face. “I really am sorry,” she pleads. “But I knew you could handle whatever came your way, and I wouldn’t have let anything too untoward happen. Nova did arrive in the nick of time, didn’t she?”
I sigh, eyes slipping closed. My headache remains, but the pulsing sensation over my left eye has blissfully retreated.
“Just don’t, okay? I don’t want to hear it,” I say sharply and then heave a large sigh. “Although, if you plan on using me as bait for future distraction and diversion tactics, I’m afraid you’re out a wolf. Jax has officially turned the apartment into my very own dog cage.”
My bitterness cannot be contained, even if my throat swells tightly shut after forcing out the confession. I return my gaze back to the glossy vanity. The mirror above it is fogged over, but not entirely. Enough is clear to spot my reflection, and I give pause to the woman I see. Thick black hair curled and mussed in the messiest bun I’ve ever seen. Jade eyes that carry the weight of the world. A yellow and brown disaster on the side of her face.
I take a shuddering breath and tilt my chin a little higher.
Not a disaster—a battle scar. Because I am strong enough to face the Dark Court's craziest vampyré and live to tell the tale.
Ruby’s soft words trail into my ear. “I couldn’t allow all of the work to—”
“Jeopardize your chance at the rings,” I finish, my hurt and anger seeping out of me and into the murky bathwater.
Pockets of shimmering purple water with oily brushstrokes begin to poke through the diminishing bubble mountains. I uncross my arms and trace the essential oils path along the water’s surface absentmindedly. It renews the scent of lavender in the air. “I can’t imagine not being in the sun,” I continue. “I understand what this opportunity must mean to you and Sebastian after all these years in the dark.”
Ruby’s mouth opens and closes in chagrin before she chews at her bottom lip again. “Yes, of course, but… Irina, there’s another reason I was worried about Sebastian. You see, I think—that is, I’m almost positive he’s… he’s involved himself with Briar, Irina.”
It takes a moment for her words to sink in. When they finally do, my entire body goes stiff. My heart skips into overdrive.
“What do you mean?”
She flushes and ducks her head. “He’s been acting oddly,” she says. “Truthfully, he has been for a year. It’s little things. The way he acts or reacts in certain situations. And when you came into the picture, and we claimed our spot here, all those little things got bigger. I don’t know how to quite explain it,” she muses, shifting in her spot to sit up straighter. “I’ve known Sebastian for almost a century. He’s been the older brother I never had, so it was easy for me to spot the differences.”
“What kind of differences?”
“He’s… softer. If you can believe it, he was far more uptight than he is now.”
I snort. “That’s not hard to believe at all.”
Ruby giggles, but far too soon it fades. “I saw them. They were standing so close, and he was simply holding her hand.” Ruby gains a far-off look to her eyes as she recalls the moment. Then her head shakes forlornly from side to side. “Jakob will be devastated if he finds out… and if anyone else were to find out. Well, you know how the story goes.”
Indeed, I do.
The Dark Court | 1866
Eight years could not heal his heart, but it was an odd coincidence that as Vienna bowed in defeat to its enemies, Jakob too felt ready to concede to his grief. For years he had struggled with acceptance, unwilling to believe that Ren could leave him so… easily.
But she had, and worse still, she ignored him. She made him feel as if he was nothing more than a passing fancy when he knew—he knew—they had been so much more.
At times he couldn’t contain his anger nor his longing. Jakob indulged in courtiers and blood, desperately attempting to stifle the wound she had delivered to him. The lifestyle did not suit him. The court took note.
“Jakob.” Max clapped him on the back, nearly spilling the younger vampyré’s glass of blut wien with its force. Jakob winced and shook his head, passing the older man a playful glare. “Let the others fetch our seats, I wish to speak with you on an important matter.”
With a distracted wave of his hand at the remainder of his family, Max steered Jakob back into the great room while the others left.
“What is the subject you wished to speak on, Max?”
Max went toward the fireplace, his face a mixture of contemplation and frustration. It drew his features together into a pained scowl. Jakob knew better than to approach the older vampyré when he was in a state like this and kept his feet glued to the ground.
“Loyalty.”
“Loyalty?” A lump formed in Jakob’s throat. “Do you refer to the Gunwyns? Are you vouched for them to receive a household title here at court, are you having second thoughts? Is Adalwin not a good friend of yours any longer?”
“I have no regrets regarding my recommendation for their title, nor the flak it got me in return. The Gunwyns are stout friends to have in battle. No, my son, I wish to speak of your loyalty.”
As soon as the words left Max’s mouth, Jakob knew… A coarse shiver shook his body, and he met Max’s steely gaze. “My loyalty has always been to this family,” he said.
“How long?” Max asked, his voice pitched low and rumbling over Jakob like an approaching storm.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about—”
Max growled, slamming his fist into the fireplace mantle and cracking it. “How long! How long did you go behind our backs to sate yourself between her legs? How long did you neglect your duties to this family for her—a Roux—a siren and a whore.”
“Don’t call her that!” Jakob shouted back.
Max’s eyes swept into crimson. “You have betrayed this family.”
Jakob paled. “No. I haven’t!”
“You know the rules. You know what danger your liaisons with that whore could do to our family if anyone found out,” Max raged. Spittle flew out of his mouth in his rushed anger and landed in his mustache.
“Nobody will find out. It’s over, Max. It’s been over for years—”
“I found out.”
There was no response Jakob could give to Max. The words came up short in his throat time and time again. “I�
�.”
“Family first, Jakob. The wants of one do not exceed that of our family as a whole. We move forward together, or not at all.” Max spoke the words with great regret, the crimson leached from his eyes to be replaced with a sorrowful haze. It hit Jakob like a train.
“I won’t do it again. I swear. It is over, Max.”
Max sighed—a final acquisition of his emotions, before he turned to stone.
“No, you will not," Max agreed. "The Dark Court has never been so tenuous. If any learned of your flaunting of the rules, we would all pay for your misdeed. And your precious Ren already faces harsh accusations from her children of neglect. That is why you will go from here,” Max said, his voice devoid of emotion.
“Go… go where?”
“There are rumors of amethysts in the Americas. I’ve managed the arrangement of your tickets—”
“Arrangements?”
“Don’t slouch, boy. It’s unbecoming, and you’re a Vrana.” Jakob stared helplessly at his mentor—his father. The train running back over him in reverse. “You are still a Vrana. You will always be a Vrana... but you must go, my son, for the safety of the others.”
A dull ache throbbed in the deepest part of Jakob’s heart. “Family first,” he swore numbly. Max approached him, his hands gripping the younger’s arms with bruising force.
“Always,” Max finished. “Now leave, and do not return until you have found another ring to add to our family’s collection.”
Chapter 15
Present
A novice could easily confuse the masses that score the long tunnel on our journey to the Celestial Court as the entirety of the Dark Court. But the weeks here have taught me enough about the social structure to know better. Only the Royal and Greater Households flood the tunnel. We make our way to the faraway underground amphitheater that will host the supernatural gathering. Crystal wall sconces light the never-ending path, with each household ordered in line according to rank.
Before, the Vrana Household would have trailed first after the Royal Households’ procession. Now, we end the train. I don’t mind a bit.
The tunnel, for all its gaudy length, is remarkably well kept. The floor boasts a red runner and pedestals with priceless artifacts on display. There is no dust, but an unpleasant humidity lingers in the air. Sebastian’s forearm is held rigid at his side with my hand tucked expertly around it. We bring up the rear, with Jakob leading our numbers onward.
I’m shocked to be among them at all. For once I find myself thankful for the Dark Court’s complex rules and dictations. Every member of both Royal and Greater Households is expected to attend, including consorts and nonvampyré members who have pledged allegiance to a household.
I peek through the veil of my heavily mascaraed eyelashes up to Sebastian. His chestnut curls have been tamed by a French pomade that smells of cedar and evergreen. The familiarity of the scent strikes me with a bout of homesickness so intense I could double over. Instead, I walk on, matching Sebastian stride for stride.
We’ve remained in relative silence since departing in the ceremonial procession with the other households from the Chamber of Lilith to the amphitheater. My hair, tied up in an intricate knot, shows off the faintest impression of where fangs have bitten into my neck. The soulmark’s second act taking longer to heal than expected. It causes a riot of whispers.
Poor girl.
Did she really think she belonged here?
What was Sebastian thinking?
I heard he's quite versed in multiple languages. Just think of all the things he can do with his tongue.
She’s filth. How he put up with her for so long is beyond me.
The Vrana family will never recover from this!
Why does Jakob allow her to stay?
He’s spent the past few nights in all of their favor.
I bite savagely at the inside of my cheek to keep the swell of frustration at bay. Their cruel gossip is just that; malicious words intent on cutting me down to the size of a tree stump. When will these vampyrés learn new tricks?
For the hundredth time, my sight sets upon Jakob. He walks ramrod straight, head held high and looking regal as ever, even from behind. Ruby and Nova walk behind him, and Jax follows closely at their heels. He sports a brilliant blue suit and wears the same black feathered coat pin Sebastian and Jakob have. Even the women of our troop wear a similar fashion, though our tasteful black feathers are fastened in our hair.
My eyes narrow on Jakob.
“Later” had been a lie. Attempting to speak with Jakob since the marking has been an exercise in futility, and it makes every encounter we share all the more awkward and strained. I can’t understand how he can ignore me. Doesn’t he feel how tightly strung together we are?
I want to hate him. I want to pull up every ounce of hurt and disgrace he has put me through and dump it onto his shoulders. Except a traitor lies within me, beating only for him. I flex my fingers as a twinge runs across my soulmark at the very thought of its existence.
“Is something the matter?” Sebastian asks.
Reluctantly, I shake my head, still unable to tear my eyes away from Jakob. It’s a side effect of the marking, or so I’ve convinced myself. While the sealing has always anchored a certain want in me to be close to my soulmark, now… now it is a magnet. A force proving exceedingly difficult to ignore, at least for me.
“It’s nothing,” I say.
Sebastian cuts his stride in half and casts his furrowed brow at me. “Is it because of…?”
Color fuses in my cheeks. “No.”
Sebastian begins to lengthen his stride, but I give pause, and thankfully, he follows my lead. Ruby’s admission haunts me. I cannot keep it from Sebastian any longer and refuse to let history repeat itself.
“Yes?”
“By chance, have you spoken with the others recently? Jax or… Ruby?”
“On numerous topics,” he confirms, his voice smooth and low. “Perhaps not on the one you have in mind, though?”
“Perhaps.” I let my voice trail off, watching the distance lengthen between the foursome and us. Without the crush of vampyrés to mask our conversation, I dare not spill Ruby’s secret so blatantly. “What topics have you discussed?”
The muscles in Sebastian’s arm stiffen, the action pulling me into his side marginally closer. I tilt my head, giving him my ear and full attention as we stroll along.
“The agenda for the Celestial Court and its main item: the inclusion of demons among its representatives. It’s sure to be a lively discussion. We’ve also had some stimulating conversations with our resident sorcerer about certain supernatural lore. It has been an enlightening experience.”
I swallow and keep my eyes forward, slowly correcting the tilt of my head. None ahead of us seems to react to our hushed words, though I still don’t doubt they are listening in.
“How enlightening indeed,” I remark. “And what are your thoughts on the inclusion of demons among the Celestial Court?”
“They’re too much trouble for what they’re worth. Though, if you speak with Jax, he would say they are a necessary evil. He believes their inclusion will diversify the Celestial Court and pave the way for more inclusive rules here.”
“You don’t agree?”
“They’re demons,” he says, his voice twisted with scorn and a touch of mocking. “I stand by my earlier statement. You’ll find this evening that these opinions encapsulate the whole of the debate at its core. And you, Irina? What are your thoughts on the matter?”
I give a dainty shrug, my lycan hearing picking up on the surge of voices above. They start as a hum that reverberates down the walls, building to a babbling crescendo.
“Call me Switzerland,” I mutter, keeping our pace slow and earning a questioning look from Sebastian. I let my eyes dart over his drawn brow and pursed lips, and my heart skips a painful beat. “I’ve had enlightening conversations myself these past few nights. Abou
t the way in which history likes to repeat itself.”
Instead of stiffening as I expect him too, Sebastian relaxes. The tension in his body flees, and he stands sure and tall. “Any history in particular?”
I dig my nails into his forearm, leaving no doubt to the answer of his question. “I spoke of it with Ruby,” I say instead.
Sebastian stumbles—a negligible movement no one could see if they were watching. But I feel it. The quick bunching of muscle in reaction to a blow. The awkward shuffling and righting of his feet. The pallor of his skin, already so unearthly pale, going whiter. My ruby-red nails threaten to tear through his steel gray Valentino suit.
“Did you?”
Forcing myself to relax, I roll my shoulders back and lift my chin a little higher. I can spot the grand entryway at the end of the tunnel. Two large columns flank the doorway to support a gothic arch that looks far more aged than the pieces holding it up.
“Ruby brought it up.”
He keeps his calm better this time, but I can still feel the anxious flexing of muscle. If Sebastian’s heart could beat, it would be racing a mile a minute.
“I didn’t have anything to say on the matter,” I continue very softly as we are forced to lengthen our strides, lest we enter the amphitheater without our household. “We did agree the subject was best kept between ourselves, though you might not find yourself too surprised if she attempts to broach the topic with you at some point.”
We catch up to the others, earning only a look from Nova. Her hair is tied in a single, tight braid down her back, with long, spiked earrings dangling from her ears. The black dress she wears is modest by the Dark Court’s standard, with clean lines and sans daring cuts.
She has perfected the Vrana family look, letting her flat stare linger on the two of us before they turn forward once more. I release the breath I hold with more gusto than necessary.
