by E. M. Knight
“Excuse me?” None of this is making any sense. “A wedding? Whose?”
“Yours, of course, sweet girl. Do you think just anybody can wander into The Haven from the outside world?” She shakes her head. “No, no. You are privileged, my dear. Because of the circumstances of your birth, you’ve been granted nearly unprecedented power… and influence… over all our lives.” She smiles again. “I know you’re confused, but everything will make sense before long.”
She stands and walks toward me. She stops in front of me and cups my face in her hands. “My, but you are a beauty, aren’t you?” she asks. “We’ll have to do something about that awful outfit, though. Oh, I know.” She snaps her fingers, and the doors of the wardrobe fly open. “You’ll find everything to your heart’s desire in there. Next time I see you, I expect you to be dressed as one befitting your position.”
And then, without another word, she simply gets up and leaves the room.
My shock only lasts a moment. I run to the doors after her and rattle the handles.
Just as before, they’re locked.
I grunt. Wedding? I think. What on earth is she talking about, I’m not getting married.
It seems like every conversation I have reveals more to me but lends confusion rather than clarity.
I turn my attention to the wardrobe. How did she open it like that?
The fabrics inside catch my eye. There are an assortment of dresses hanging there.
All of them look just as extravagant as hers.
I walk over and run a hand over them. Despite myself, I get goosebumps. I’ve never imagined feeling anything this expensive against my skin.
Is this really right? I wonder. Only an hour ago I saw somebody get killed. And now I’m entertaining the notion of putting on clothes picked out for me?
All this is totally insane.
But there’s nothing to be done about it. I pick out a light blue dress and hold it up before me in front of a mirror. I stroke the material. It’s wonderfully soft and looks to be exactly my size.
No, I shake my head. This is ridiculous. I’m not going to put their clothes on. No way, no how.
Yet after half an hour, my resolve fades. I’m cooped up in these chambers with nothing else to do.
I sigh and strip out of the clothes linking me to my previous life. No sooner do I have the first dress on than a soft tapping comes from the door.
I spin around. The door creeps open, and a meek-looking serving girl comes in.
“I was asked to see if you require anything,” she says. Her eyes are downcast and her voice is barely above a whisper. “If you’re hungry, I can—”
“Yes!” I say. The girl flinches. Is she scared of me? “I mean, yes, please, that would be wonderful.” The last meal I had scarcely made a dent in my hunger.
She bows and starts out the room.
“Hold on,” I say. “What’s your name?”
She gives a little gasp of surprise. “I’m…” she begins. My ears perk up.
“…Unable to tell you,” she finished lamely.
I narrow my eyes. “Why?”
“I’m sorry,” she says. “The less we speak, the better it is. For me. You understand?”
Not really, I want to say. Instead, I exhale. “Of course.”
She draws back. Just before she leaves, she adds, very softly, “You have stunning eyes, Princess.”
Princess?
Chapter Nineteen
RAUL
“She’s quite a jewel,” Mother says as she walks through the palace. “You are lucky to have her.”
I follow in her stead with my hands clasped behind my back. I don’t have to voice my discomfort with the whole situation. Once the Queen makes up her mind, there’s little that can be said to dissuade her.
“I doubt she feels the same about me,” I tell her stiffly.
She laughs. “Oh, nonsense.” She bends by a vase of flowers and inhales deeply. “These smell lovely. Who chose them?”
“I don’t know.” My voice is tinged with annoyance. “How can you think about frivolities like that now, Mother?”
She clicks her tongue and moves on. “You know I don’t like you calling me that.” She sighs. “Alas, it is something I will have to get used to, won’t I?”
“As if you haven’t in the past centuries?”
She gives me a sharp look.
I rake a hand through my hair. “I’m sorry. I speak to you without thinking.”
“You seem to be doing a lot of that recently,” she notes. “Oh well. It is of small significance. I’m sure it’s something your wife will soon help correct.”
I cough. “Wife?”
“Yes, of course. You’re to wed the girl as soon as possible.” She flows onward without looking at my reaction. “It’s only prudent that we bring her into our family before the succession can truly begin. Don’t you think?”
“No, I do not think, Mother.” I stride forward and grab her arm. I turn her to face me.
She frowns at my point of contact. “Forgetting yourself again, my son?” she asks softly. “Or…” she runs a finger down my chest. “Maybe you’ve decided to take me up on my long-standing offer, hmm?”
I grimace and jerk my hand away. “Never.”
“A pity.”
“I am not marrying her.”
Morgan laughs. “Why? Does she repel you so?”
Just the opposite, I think.
But I cannot tell the Queen that.
“It’s improper,” I say. “We’ve kidnapped her and stolen her from her life. How do you think she’ll react to your proposition?”
“As a future Princess should. With dignity and grace. Remember, Raul.” She touches my chest and gives a pitying look. “The ancestral blood that flows through her veins gives her the powers of the old clan of witches.”
“You’re telling me she is related to you?” My throat clenches. “Why am I only learning of this now? The celestial charts showed nothing of the sort!”
“No, no,” Mother laughs. “Eleira comes from an entirely different line. You do know precious little about how it all works, don’t you?”
“Being stuck with the vampire curse is enough. I don’t make it a priority to learn about your kind, too.”
“Something that we’ll also have to change, before long, if you’re to rule.”
“I have no desire for —”
“Your desires have nothing to do with anything,” she cuts in. “But I’ll give you a small history lesson to broaden your knowledge. At the origin, there were five great families, all part of the witch clan. All had enormous power. Little by little, over the years, that power whittled away. Until there were only two. Two daughters of the clans, bound by loyalty and oath. Myself —” she raises a finger, “— and one other.
“We were both witches. Our abilities were similar, but our ambitions… were not. She was happy to lead a normal, disgustingly short, human life. Whereas I —” she stands taller, “— always aspired to something much greater. So this curse you always complain about — why do you not see it as I do? It is the most wonderful blessing. It is eternal life.”
“It is a life of darkness.”
“Perhaps. But better to have infinite nights than a limited span of days.”
“I disagree.”
“I know you do, sweet child.” She gives me a sad look. “Your perspective is flawed. Anyway. At the time I caught wind of a little rumor… a sorcerer working at something I greatly craved. Of course —” she gives another little laugh, “— you can imagine how the story goes. The man I found was no sorcerer. But he was a vampire. And he became, in time, your father.”
I stand very still, careful not to interrupt. Morgan had never shared this story with me before. As far as I know, she’s never shared it with anyone before.
“My friend was outraged by what I’d done. She swore that my new powers would bring me nothing but misery and prophesied a horrible end. But —” she smiles, and looks at
her nails, “— look at which of us is alive today and which is not.”
She laughs. “Eleira is her final descendent. That is what makes her so vital to us. The abilities of witches do not flow from generation to generation. They lie latent for decades, even centuries, before one such as her is born.
“You know why I care for her? You know how important our task is? With Eleira in hand, with her on our side, with her blood joined together with yours, there are none who can ever threaten us. The two remaining lines of the great families, of the great witches, will finally be joined together as one. Can you think of any better insurance for the future?” She twirls around, oblivious in her happiness. “Because I cannot.”
“You expect her to just go along with it?” I ask. “What if she resists?”
“Oh, we have many ways of breaking her, don’t you worry.”
“You’re making her into your pawn,” I say.
“For now,” Morgan admits. “Eventually, she will come around. And it’s not my pawn she’s going to be, my son, my sweetest.” She looks deep into my eyes. “It’s yours.”
Chapter Twenty
ELEIRA
I fell asleep after my meal. When I awoke hours later, it was still night outside.
I rose and discovered my clothes missing. Somebody must have come in and taken them.
That thought does not sit well with me. It could have been the servant girl. It could have been one of the vampires.
Who knows what else they could have done to me while I was so defenseless?
Suddenly, on a bout of hysteria, I laugh. I’m concerned about vampires taking advantage of me, just because I was asleep?
“You’re their prisoner, Eleira,” I mutter. “They can do anything they want to you, asleep or not.”
Now that is a distressing thought.
I walk to the window of the balcony — my only link to the outside world. I’m surprised when I find activity in the village below. Torches are lit at regular intervals along the houses, providing a semblance of light. Amongst them, people wander to and fro, most running some sort of errands. They look like farmers, artisans, peasants. It’s like I’ve opened up the pages of a history book and glimpsed inside. None of the people down there show any signs of belonging to this century — or the one before.
I shiver. Even though it’s no longer cold, I have this feeling of being trapped in time.
The doors come open. I spin around.
Raul walks in.
He throws himself on top of a chaise and drapes one arm over its back. He hasn’t seen me. But when he looks, he lets out an audible gasp.
“What?” I say.
“That dress — where did you get it?”
Is he angry? He certainly doesn’t sound pleased.
“Um,” I hesitate.
He bolts up. His eyes narrow, and for once, he looks right at me.
Butterflies explode in my stomach.
“Was James here?” he demands. “Is this his idea of a joke?” He takes a looming step forward. “If he was —”
“No!” I quickly say. Raul advances until I’m backed up into a corner. I try to match his eye contact, but it’s impossible. His gaze is so intense, his focus is so much on me, that it makes my heart skip every other beat.
“Don’t lie to me, Eleira,” he says. His arms jut out. Suddenly, I’m boxed in. The proximity of his body, the heat of his glare… all of it serves to elicit some very intense reaction inside me.
My breathing picks up. My chest rises and falls. I’m flustered and immediately thrown off guard by this man, and it has nothing to do with what he is.
It’s just my body’s natural reaction to his very male presence.
“I’m not lying,” I manage. The way he’s looking at me, I’m not sure if he wants to kiss me or suck my blood.
He scowls. “Then where did you get it?”
I point a shaking finger at the wardrobe, now closed.
Raul spins off. I suck in a relieved breath.
But what’s up with the strange disappointment I feel about him leaving?
He walks to the wardrobe and flings it open. The inside is empty.
I gasp.
He turns his head, and again his piercing gaze roots me in place.
“It… it was full before,” I stutter.
“I’m sure.” He slams the doors with too much force. He’s doing a good job containing his emotions, but I can tell that I’m walking a very thin line between peace and setting him off. And I didn’t even do anything other than put on a dress.
My mind scrambles for the right thing to say. “A woman,” I tell him. “A woman came in.” Damn, why am I so flustered? “She said her name was Morgan. She told me to change into —”
I don’t get to finish, because the next moment, Raul is right on me, holding me by both arms against the wall.
His strength and speed is astounding. I should be terrified, but for some reason, I’m not.
I’m just confused.
“You met the Queen?” he rasps. “She saw you? Here?”
I bite my lip and nod quickly. “I didn’t know who she was,” I say.
Raul exhales. His hands fall. But he doesn’t step away.
“I’m sorry I got angry with you,” he says. “But you — you don’t understand. The things you do to me… the torture it is to be this close…” he brings a hand up and softly brushes my jawline.
It’s the tenderest caress I’ve ever received in my life. It makes goosebumps explode all over my body.
“…to be so close, and to be unable to do anything about it,” he finishes.
He shifts his gaze to my neck. I stand completely frozen as he focuses on the spot. He sweeps my hair away, exposing the tender expanse of skin.
“James…” he murmurs. “I can’t believe James was the one to take you. How did he resist? How did he not drain you whole? Oh, Eleira, if you only knew how much I crave to be…”
He catches himself in the soliloquy and stops. His eyes widen. He looks shocked to have said so much.
As fast as ever, he rips away. He’s in the center of the room before I can blink.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t —” he swallows. “I shouldn’t say such things. They’ll only frighten you.”
Is that… remorse… in his voice? I’m astounded. Here I was, this whole time seeing him as nothing more than a veritable monster…
But he isn’t. He has some very human emotions running through him.
Doesn’t he?
I don’t know what compels me to push off from the wall and walk toward him. I don’t know what it is that makes me reach out and take his hand.
I don’t know what it is that makes me bring that hand to my cheek and lean against it.
“You saved me in The Catacombs,” I say softly. “You shouldn’t be apologizing. If anything, I should be thanking you.”
Raul looks at me. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard.
His hand is cold against my face. Still I keep it there, savoring the strange moment of connection. Grasping for the tiniest sense of intimacy in a place that is so foreign and scary, and yet, somehow… magical.
Raul twists his body toward me. He steps forward so our torsos are touching again.
I have no idea what’s gotten into me. All I know is that the blossoming feelings inside are nothing I can fight.
Am I really falling for my captor?
“You’re not going to kill me,” I say. “Are you?”
“Eleira.” He says my name with the conviction of a long-lost lover. “No. Of course not. Never. You are mine…forever …to protect.”
And then, ever so slowly, haltingly, hesitantly, he leans his head down and presses his lips to mine.
It’s the lightest touch. And it only lasts a flicker of a moment. But it’s enough for me to know that what he says is the absolute truth.
A spark lights in my body. Before I can respond to the chaste kiss, Raul pulls back.
&
nbsp; Is he so timid? I think. But then I see the way his hands are shaking and the tight rigidness of his entire body.
And I realize: it must take everything he has not to devour me right now.
He steps away. “We shouldn’t do that,” he says. “We shouldn’t…”
But his words trail off and his eyes run once more over my body. I can see the desire burning inside him.
It’s mirrored by the heavy need coursing through me.
A bolt of alarm hits me. I gasp and turn away. Have I gone totally insane? Sharing a kiss with a vampire, letting my emotions get the better of me and make me forget everything about how and why I ended up in this situation in the first place?
“No,” I say. “You’re right. We should not.”
I think I hear him sigh, but it might just be my imagination. I stare out the window into the eternal night. A part of me still believes this is one crazy dream, and I’ll soon wake up and find myself back in the library, where I fell asleep…
But I know that to be the childish, irrational part. Because, crazy as all this is, I can no longer deny that The Haven is my new reality.
“Why doesn’t the sun ever shine?”
“To protect us. The Queen casts spells…” Raul searches for the right words.
“I understand,” I say. “What you said before?” I begin. My hands clench into fists. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes. “About me being turned. Is that true?”
There is no hesitation in his reply. “Yes.”
“That means I can’t go back. Can I?”
“To your old life? No. Never.”
Sadness swells inside me, but the words do not come as a shock. That’s pretty much what I’ve been expecting this whole time.
A lone tear leaks down my cheek. “Why me?” I ask.
“Because of who you are.”
“Yes, but why?” I insist. I spin back to face him. “Morgan said there’s going to be a wedding. The serving girl called me ‘Princess.’ You say I’m being turned. Please — please explain it to me. Because I cannot, I do not, for the life of me, understand.”
