The Vampire Court (Shadow World: The Vampire Debt Book 3)

by Ali Winters

  My gaze darts from one man to the other.

  “It isn’t that,” Lawrence says, his expression stony.

  Silence falls like the first flake of snow before a storm. There seems to be an unspoken message that passes between them.

  Alaric turns to me, eyes pleading for me not to ask. “I meant what I said, my dear Clara.”

  I can only nod, trusting his word. Then I watch the two of them walk off in silence.

  With the loss of Alaric’s company, I suddenly feel the chill of the winter air more acutely. I remain with my back against the stone wall, remembering the feel of his touch and the way he tasted. I don’t know how much time has passed, but after a while, the cold seeps into my bones, prickling at my skin like tiny needles. Pushing away, I head inside.

  Chapter Ten

  Alaric

  Irritation prickles at my nerves as I walk beside Lawrence. He presses his mouth into a tight line, refusing to speak a word until we reach the second floor. I glance out a window to the garden below and see Clara’s faint outline through the lattice arch where I left her. It had been a rare moment together only for something to pull me away.

  I place a hand on Lawrence’s forearm, halting him. He turns to face me, jaw clenched.

  He’s hiding something.

  “What is so important that you had to drag me halfway across the castle?” I narrow my gaze at the man, taking him in from head to foot. His nostrils flare. I hold up a hand, recognizing the tell. “And don’t lie. You never knew how.”

  He presses the pads of his fingers against his forehead and blows out an exasperated sigh. Dropping his arm back to his side, he looks me in the eye again. His mouth opens and shuts a few times. Then finally, he says, “It is complicated… You need to see this for yourself. I wouldn’t know where to begin. It’s better if she explains it to you herself.”

  She. The word instantly raises my hackles. “You said this wasn’t about Elizabeth.”

  He clamps his mouth shut, and after a few seconds, he says, “It’s not.” A pause. “Elise is here. In the castle.”

  My brows pull together. I don’t understand.

  “Wasn’t she one of your staff?”

  She’s lucky another vampire hasn’t found her and made a meal of her yet. It is a death sentence for a human to come to Nightwich without a vampire escort. Demons and saints, how could she be so stupid to come here?

  “Yes,” I say, “but I let her go for her indiscretions.”

  Lawrence raises a single brow, his expression suddenly intrigued. “Oh? Do tell.”

  I glower as I push past him. “Don’t be a gossip. It is below your station.”

  He snorts. We both know I don’t give two demon shits about my station.

  Lawrence hurries ahead, walking backward. “She said you were expecting her. It was a lie of course. I knew better than to believe you would send for a servant.”

  His gaze travels back toward the garden as if he could see Clara through the stonewalls. I pick up my pace.

  “I just couldn’t figure out why she would lie about that… or about everything else.” He rubs his chin as he turns to walk at my side again. “Do you have any idea why she’s here?”

  “None,” I say. “She tried to kill Clara the night before you showed up while I was out hunting.”

  Lawrence’s jaw drops. “And… she still lives?” A thoughtful expression passes over his face.

  “Clara begged for her life,” I explain.

  We turn down the hall that houses each member of the court—all except for me. Elizabeth has always kept me separated from the others as a way to isolate me. It tells the others that I am above them, both literally and figuratively, effectively preventing me from allying with anyone.

  And it had worked for decades until I finally left Elizabeth and her endless games, behind.

  “Meet me in my chambers,” Lawrence says.

  “Why all the secrecy?”

  “You will understand shortly,” he says. Then he turns down the narrow servants’ hallway.

  When I enter his quarters, I go no farther than the small antechamber that doubles as a drawing room. There is a sofa and one chair in front of a desk with a porcelain teapot and a single cup resting atop the silver serving tray.

  Like every other court member’s room, this one is built for a single occupant, discouraging any from entering into a relationship. Elizabeth has never expressly forbidden it, but it was made clear in the death of two of the newer members one hundred years ago. They disappeared after the winter solstice of their first year and found impaled on spikes in front of the castle the next morning. I shake my head, ridding myself of those morbid thoughts.

  A fire burns in the hearth, snapping and popping. It warms the room a degree or two above comfortable. I pace back and forth, waiting for Lawrence to return. When he does, he is alone.

  I look past him into the hall before the door closes. He keeps his hand on the doorknob.

  “What in the Otherworld is going on?” I demand.

  He inclines his head toward the sofa. “You should have a seat.” When I don’t move, he huffs, exasperated, and says, “Fine. Have it your way.”

  Opening the door, he reaches out. A woman swaggers in, head bowed and hands clasped in front of her. The emerald hat she wears partially obscures her face and makes her red hair more vibrant. Her silk dress is a deep green that wraps around her thin form. She looks as though she belongs in court.

  I don’t understand why he brought a strange woman to see me, or what she has to do with Elise. Then, slowly, she raises her eyes to meet mine. A thin red line encircles her gray irises. She is a vampire.

  I gape, having difficulty comprehending what I am seeing. She is so different from the girl I used to know.

  “Elise?” I ask.

  Elise is human… She was human. Who would have turned her, and when?

  She breaks out in a wide grin. “It’s good to see you again, Alaric.”

  My name sounds strange coming from her mouth.

  “I-I don’t understand.”

  Her smile turns sheepish, which makes me frown, though this explains how she made it inside Nightwich alive.

  Lawrence clears his throat. “I will leave you two alone. You have a lot to catch up on.”

  Elise turns to him, tilting her head. “No,” she says. “These are your rooms. I wouldn’t dream of kicking you out.”

  She is different from the meek girl I knew, more confident.

  “Elise… How?”

  Her attention returns to me. “The same as anyone else here. It’s the winter solstice. All vampires are welcome here this month. You know that.”

  “You know what I mean,” I snap.

  “I’m leaving to feed,” Lawrence murmurs.

  Neither of us pays him any attention as he slips out. The soft click of the door seems loud in the silence that hangs between us.

  “How did this happen?” I ask more softly this time. My heart aches at what her mother would think if she were still alive. I feel responsible for this. If only I hadn’t dismissed her like I had… I cut off that line of thought.

  “Alaric, please,” she says tiredly, as if this is just another banal conversation about some trivial matter. “Let’s not talk of the past. We are both here now.”

  The fool acts as if this is some small matter, something to be dismissed.

  I close the distance between us in two strides and grip her by the shoulders, giving her a light shake. “Who turned you?”

  Elise smiles uneasily. “Does it matter?”

  “Yes, it does. If your mother were still alive, she would be heartbroken to know you turned into this.” I motion with my hand.

  Elise jerks back as if I’d slapped her, pulling free. “She worked for you almost her entire life. She would have wanted this for me,” she snaps. For the first time, the calm, demure facade falls away.

  That she believes what she says makes my heart ache for her because she does not remem
ber her mother. Charlotte hated what Rosalie and I were, but she respected our philosophies.

  “Anyway, I didn’t come here to talk about that. I’ve come so we could make amends.”

  “Who turned—”

  “It doesn’t matter who my sire is,” she shrugs one shoulder. “He was a means to an end.” Her hands ball into fists at her side. Her skin becomes blotchy with anger.

  “What end, Elise?” I narrow my eyes.

  Her chest heaves with her breathing. After a strained moment, she pulls in a deep breath and releases it as she smoothes nonexistent wrinkles from her dress. “If you didn’t want this fate for me,” she says with deadly calm, “then you should have treated me better and not dismissed me in favor of someone who hates your very essence. That human would gladly kill you. No matter what she says or does, she will always hate you.”

  The words are cold. Cruel. They echo doubts I’ve had in my mind since the day I claimed Clara. Despite what Elise did to her, it was easier to let Elise live when the heat of the moment had dissipated, and I knew Clara was safe.

  With as much trouble as she has been, I am glad that I spared her. I watched her grow up. She was always like a niece to me. Her mother had been a valuable employee, and Rosalie had cherished Elise.

  “What do you want, Elise?”

  “This. I’ve always wanted this. I wanted you to see me.”

  My brows draw together. “I’ve always seen you. You were Charlotte’s daughter, but you were still an employee.”

  Elise recoils at the last word. “Is that all you ever saw?” her voice breaks. “I loved you,” she says accusingly.

  I bow my head. “I’m sorry. I never have, and I never will see you as anything more. I do not, nor will I ever have feelings for you. I watched you grow up. It would be impossible to see you any other way.”

  “Loved,” she all but yells the word. “I had loved you once. When you sent me away, you killed that part of me, but now, I am here asking you to see me as your equal.”

  The fire snaps in the hearth as if punctuating her words.

  “That’s not how this works.” I shake my head. “I never thought you would need to understand the intricacies of vampire hierarchy… But, Elise, you will never be my equal. You are a lesser vampire, turned by a member of the court, not the queen.”

  Elise goes deathly still for several heartbeats. When she moves, her upper lip curls in a snarl. Her eyes are hard as steel as red seeps in, swallowing up the pale color.

  “That’s not true! You are a liar, Alaric,” she hisses through her teeth “I see my sire was right about you.”

  “Elise…” I lift a hand, beseeching her to end this fight.

  “You will regret this, Alaric Devereaux,” she hisses, then spins on her heel and storms out of the room.

  I rub my forehead. Who the fuck could have sired her? It must be someone I know, at least in part, to have said something to her.

  I sigh, regretting that I hurt her but refusing to play into her games, refusing to be manipulated by guilt. Her threat is empty, of course. She is a lesser vampire with weak powers at most, and depending on her sire’s power, she could be little more than a human, and I am the crown prince.

  The title is a bitter taste coating my tongue, but I am more powerful than all the others, save for Elizabeth.

  Elise will heal in time. She will forget about me.

  I stride from the room, heading for my own. Clara should have returned there by now.

  Chapter Eleven

  Clara

  I only managed a few minutes alone with Alaric before he was pulled away for demons only know what reason. It feels like we’ve been here for an eternity, and I have been waiting the entire time—waiting for him to open up, waiting to learn why he brought me here… and waiting for him to see him again.

  Doubt seeps in.

  Was coming here a mistake? Should I have just disappeared and changed my name? I cringe at my selfish thoughts.

  Before we left Windbury, Alaric admitted that if I hadn’t come, he would have remained indefinitely. His disdain for this place shows in the tick of his jaw and the sharpness of his words when he speaks of the queen. He means something to me, and I couldn’t leave him to that fate.

  Knowing that he won’t end up trapped here makes this worth it. It doesn’t matter that we will hardly see each other for now. There are only a few days left before we leave, and then… then we can talk, and I can decide where to go from there.

  Knots form in my belly, twisting painfully at the thought of never seeing his face again, because… because…

  My world shifts.

  My heart thumps in my chest as the toe of my boot catches, and I stumble.

  I care for him. As more than a friend… Far more than I should. I want him, and I can’t deny the connection between us, but this is so much more than that.

  It’s not just the mark.

  The feeling squeezes my heart in a way I don’t understand. Swallowing thickly, I brace against a wall for support. I can’t name what it is I do feel. Part of me is afraid to, but what I felt for Xander for years pales in comparison.

  I press a clammy hand to my forehead to slow my racing thoughts. The urge to find Alaric is overwhelming. I want to look him in the eye so I know if it’s real or a product of loneliness. I want to see if he feels even a fraction of this, and if he doesn’t, then I’ll never have admitted it, not even to myself. I can push whatever this is down and lock it away for good.

  For the first time, I look around. Too lost in my thoughts, I wandered into a part of the castle I’ve never been before. The halls are empty. Paintings and tapestries decorating the walls lend warmth and opulence to the interior that is lacking in most other areas. Tall, decorative stands hold lit beeswax candles in the spaces between sconces, and thick, heavy drapes are pulled to the side of the windows. Iron crisscrosses create small, diamond-shaped panes of frosted glass.

  With all of the yards and yards of material, the area feels overly indulgent. Even where Alaric and I are staying isn’t this nice.

  He is the crown prince… above all except the queen.

  Fuck.

  I take a step back as understanding dawns on me. I should head back and wait in the room for Alaric.

  My pulse kicks up in warning. I turn to go back and barely avoid crashing into someone. I blink, my vision focusing on a shiny, black button too close to my face. I back up, mumbling an apology, keeping my head down.

  “I didn’t see you there,” I say again. “Please excuse me. I must get back.”

  I keep my eyes downcast, staring at the ground. I don’t trust him. I move to the wall to skirt around him, watching his feet rotate as I walk past. I bring my hand to my left wrist, wrap my fingers around the hilt, and unsheathe it, pressing the blade flat against my forearm.

  “I know you,” he says.

  My head jolts up as he’s suddenly before me, red power glinting in his eyes. I recognize him too. Kerin.

  “You’re that snack Vivian was protecting.” He hums thoughtfully to himself. He still hasn’t made the connection between Mother and me. “But why would she protect another vampire’s human?”

  Pretty sure he’s talking to himself at this point, I retreat a step then another and another.

  “Why would anyone protect you? You’re nothing extraordinary.” Kerin frowns then shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. We are alone, and there is no one around to interrupt us.”

  I hold up a hand, using the other to hide the dagger behind my back. “Stay away.”

  He doesn’t listen, of course. Kerin grins and advances slowly as I continue to back up.

  “I’ve already been claimed by the crowned prince.” My eyes widen. I realize my mistake the second the words are out of my mouth.

  Kerin smirks as if I said something funny. “That bastard hasn’t been part of the court in over a hundred years. His title is an empty one to flaunt around. It gives him the delusion that he holds any power at all, but d
on’t worry,” he says, stalking forward. “I will try not to kill you.”

  “Alaric will kill you if you touch me.”

  He laughs, a nearly uncontrollable belly laugh. He wraps his arms around his waist, nearly doubling over from his amusement.

  I take my chance and bolt down the hallway, but a human outrunning a vampire is near impossible. I don’t make it far before his fingers tangle in my hair and pull me to a stop. I cry out, my scalp burning from the vicious treatment. He spins me, and my back slams hard against the wall, forcing the air painfully out of my lungs from the impact.

  “Don’t touch me,” I snarl.

  He pulls down on my hair, wrenching my head back. I bite back a whimper of pain as I pry at his fingers with one hand, squeezing the hilt of the dagger with my other. I could cut him right now, but if I did, it would have to be a killing blow. Both options carry undesirable consequences.

  He lets go, placing one hand against the wall next to my head. The other snakes up to my neck, splayed fingers curling around my throat. His thumb tilts my chin up and to the side.

  He tsks. “Shame, there is already a scar.”

  The sharp edge of his nail scratches over the area.

  “This is your last chance.” My voice is barely audible. I want him to release me, to stop whatever game he’s playing, though a small part of me knows that this isn’t a game.

  He moves too fast for me to see, sinking his fangs into my neck. I can feel each draw of blood he takes—the pressure, the searing heat and freezing cold racing through my veins with it. My fingers grow icy cold, prickling with an onset of numbness. Black spots form before my eyes.

  “T-that’s enough,” I manage to say.

  I can feel him chuckle against my skin as he continues to drink. Faster and faster, I can feel him draining me. Tingles spread through my body, weakening my muscles. My legs tremble.

  Otherworld save me—he’s killing me.

  Shifting the dagger in my hand, I whisper, “I warned you.”