Of the Blood

by Cameo Renae

  So many lives were lost, and although Morbeth had one of the greatest and strongest militaries on the continent, they withdrew behind their wicked Red Wall. Rumors had spread that all inhabitants in Morbeth had become captives of their own country, powerless to escape. Those who tried were charged with treason and promptly executed.

  The thought sent an icy shiver down my spine, knowing this was the same country hunting my family.

  Kylan halted and sniffed the air. When it was clear, he moved on. We must have been close. “How many immortal kingdoms are there?” I queried.

  “Seven,” he replied. “Each country in Talbrinth has its own kingdom and is ruled by a Vampire King. Because the Vladu clan is one of those seven, we were also delivered the Death Decree.”

  “Why would Morbeth send it to the rest of the kingdoms?”

  “Because if any of those kingdoms decided to harbor your grandfather, a war would come swiftly to them.”

  “Wow, that’s—”

  My words were cut short as the world around me spun. I gasped for breath, reaching forward, expecting to grab hold of Kylan, but instead, plunged into an endless darkness.

  Chapter Five

  My eyes flickered open. I was lying on the ground with Kylan’s turquoise eyes looming over me, worry engraved intensely on his brow.

  “Drink. Now,” he ordered, placing a flask to my mouth.

  “No!” I shoved it away. “I don’t want to be bonded.”

  “Don’t be a fool. You need to feed. This blood carries no ties to it. I promise.” He held up a black plastic flask in front of my face. “I’m sorry I didn’t give it to you sooner. You’re quite weak from your transformation and need to feed.”

  He held the opening of the flask to my lips. As soon as I detected the scent of blood, the thirst grasped hold of me. Every cell in my body demanded me to drink, and I knew if I didn’t, it would revolt. It was terrifyingly powerful.

  Sharp incisors lengthened, piercing my lip. I cursed, but the sting didn’t last long.

  The ravenous thirst burned deep, numbing my conscience. I was turning into a bloodthirsty monster, and right now, there was nothing I could do to stop it. My body trembled, perspiration trickled down my brow. The essence of the blood beckoned, pulling me into its clutches.

  “Drink. I promise you’ll feel better once you have,” Kylan advised, putting a hand under my back, raising me slightly.

  Tipping the flask to my lips, a slight trickle of blood touched my tongue. It was the pleasantest taste imaginable. Blissful, even. My tongue, my mouth, my body, cried out for more.

  That was all it took. I seized the vial from his hand and poured the contents down my throat. I could hear Kylan’s faint voice, but the hunger had taken over. All my senses were submissive to the will and desire of the all-consuming thirst, numbing everything else around me.

  When the contents were emptied, I closed my eyes and let the bottle slip from my fingers. I was high, every part of me buzzing and tingling. The blood coursing through my veins was waking my cells from slumber.

  My muscles were no longer tired but felt stronger than ever. Energy filled my limbs and stimulated my brain, like an electrical current jolting everything back to life. The feeling was indescribable. I felt revitalized, my strength restored.

  When I opened my eyes, Kylan stared at me, shaking his head. Giving a half smirk, he took a handkerchief from his back pocket and gently wiped my mouth. “You’re going to have to learn to control the thirst. If you let it take over, it could lead to your downfall.”

  Embarrassment heated my face when I realized what I’d done. My tunic was cold and wet, and as I peered down, I found trails of blood down my chest. Thank heavens my tunic was black, or I would have died of shame.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I don’t know what happened to me. I—I couldn’t stop.”

  The power of the thirst was frightening. I never wanted to fall prey to that wild and violent desire or feel that weak or helpless again. There had to be a way to bridle it.

  “Don’t apologize.” He hesitated, his eyes softening. “It happens to all the newly transformed. It takes time to learn to control the thirst.”

  I sighed, still feeling the heat in my cheeks. “What kind of blood was it? Was it animal or human?”

  “We survive off human blood. Animal blood never satisfies the thirst, and most of it makes us sick. You could consume it, if it were a life or death situation, but we need human blood to survive. The fresher the blood, the more potent it is, and the stronger it makes us.”

  I shuttered, realizing what his words meant. “I just drank human blood?”

  Kylan stood and gave me his hand. “Don’t worry. This blood was freely offered. It was a legitimate and consenting transaction; one of the many businesses Trystan’s family runs.”

  My eyes widened. “People willingly give them blood?”

  “Yes. Why not? Trystan’s father has a sagacious eye for business. If mortals are willing to donate blood in the name of medicine, then we don’t have to hunt unnecessarily or seduce our victims to get it. Besides, they get paid well for it. It’s a win-win for both sides concerned.”

  I grabbed hold of his hand and he hauled me to my feet. Then, one word, which should have remained in my brain, slid from my lips. “Seduce?”

  Kylan gave me a look that had my cheeks warming. A look that didn’t need words. A look that told me I should already know . . . because it was how Trystan got me into Brynna’s spare room that night and into this present mess.

  “Humans are easily seduced,” he explained. “Their minds are easy to penetrate. The trouble arises once one of us latches onto a mortal to feed. The touch, the smell, the hunger, are all intensified. It’s considerably stronger than what you’ve just encountered, and often harder to break free from once you’ve attached onto a living, breathing being. Our Kingdom is opposed to latching because of the casualties that can arise, especially with those who are newly transformed. Thus, the blood donations.”

  So, Trystan’s family weren’t ruthless monsters after all.

  I dared to ask. “Where is Trystan now?”

  “He has returned home to organize meetings and is likely getting ready to travel.” He spun to me. “He won’t rest until he gets answers.”

  I still wanted to find out why. Why would he jeopardize so much for me?

  “Where is his home?”

  “Carpathia,” he answered.

  “Carpathia?” The country was recognized for its wealth and rich, fertile soil. Although Carpathia was a part of the continent of Talbrinth, it was detached, an island roughly half the size of the continent and furthest away from Sartha. “If he resides in Carpathia, then what was he doing in Sartha?”

  Kylan exhaled a sigh. “He came for you.”

  “Don’t you think that’s kind of creepy?”

  “Creepy?” His eyes narrowed on me. His face serious. “He traveled here to save your life.”

  “Precisely. A prince who lives on the opposite side of Talbrinth, across the Sangerian Sea, on a rich, independent island, comes to protect a mortal girl he knows nothing about but feels an attachment to by seeing her name. You don’t think that’s just a bit creepy?”

  He paused. “Trystan has made quite a few decisions based on pure intuition, and so far, he’s never been wrong. We’ve come to trust his decisions, even if we don’t understand them. And to answer your question . . . no. Crazy, yes. But not creepy.”

  “Fine.” I guess he was entitled to his own opinion, and I shouldn’t have expected anything less. Kylan was probably Trystan’s best friend and confidant, and I highly doubted he would ever badmouth him or his kingdom, especially since he was chosen to protect him.

  “Are you a pureblood?” I asked.

  “So many questions when we should be silent,” he scowled. “But no, I am not a pureblood. Trystan sired me. And that, Calla, is a tale for another day. For now, we must move swiftly and quietly.” He exaggerated the word q
uietly.

  I nodded, accepting it was his nicest way of ordering me to shut up.

  Weaving through closely knit trees, Kylan led us toward a monticule, its face composed of jagged rock. I wasn’t sure what the plan was because when we arrived, he casually walked alongside the rocky ridge, trailing his fingers over the stones.

  “Are we lost?”

  “No.” Frustration edged his voice. “I’m waiting.”

  “For what?”

  He halted at a formation of rocks which started to swirl right before my eyes, giving the appearance of liquid. Letting out a strong puff of air, Kylan grumbled. “It’s about time.” Then he stepped directly into the center of the liquid rock and disappeared. Poof! Gone.

  What the hell? I took a step closer when a hand shot out and seized my arm, making me yelp.

  “Shh—” Kylan’s head popped out with a grin tugging at his lips. “It’s safe. I promise.” He stretched his hand toward me, but I pushed it aside and stepped through the rock by myself.

  That simple step—through a magic portal—landed me inside a dark, stone cavern. My feet crunched on gravel and the odor of smoke lingered in the air.

  “Come. I’ll introduce you to the others.” Kylan took a few steps, then paused, and rotated. His eyes found mine. “I’m sorry for startling you.”

  “It’s fine,” I replied, keeping my expression neutral. There was no reason to be upset with him. He’d rescued me from the disgusting men at the tavern and offered me blood when I needed it.

  He nodded, then strode away, satisfied with my response.

  Following him further into the cavern, a lambent light flickered against the back of the cave wall. A low murmur of voices had nerves settling in the pit of my gut. These men were the king’s personal guards, here on orders to protect me—a babysitting assignment—and not of their own will. Kylan had already admitted they didn’t understand why Trystan had sent them for me, and I wondered if they despised me for it.

  As we followed the cave, which twisted to the right, I spotted four bodies settled around a small fire. Three males and one female. Kylan cleared his throat, and when they turned their attention to us, I found myself sliding behind him.

  How was I expected to act?

  The first male—the biggest and tallest—stood and approached us, and I instantly felt two inches tall compared to his six-foot, five-inch frame. One of his biceps alone was the size of my head. His hair was the color of raven’s wings, drawn back behind his neck. His skin was darkly tanned, his features sharp and menacing. He was frightening in every aspect, especially with the three scars marring his left cheek, which extended down his neck, disappearing under his black tunic.

  Kylan stood between us, his hand gesturing to the giant towering a foot away from us. I was fixed in place, reminding myself to breathe and not pass out.

  “Calla, this is Brone, the biggest and meanest bonehead you’ll ever meet.”

  Brone growled and gave him an intense gaze that had my insides trembling. An . . . I’ll shred you to pieces if you keep it up look. I cringed, but Kylan casually laughed it off, slapping the man’s boulder of a shoulder.

  Brone’s intimidating gaze shifted to me and—heavens above—I stopped breathing. As he held out his massive hand to me, my limbs went weak. He could probably take off my head with one flick of his sausage-sized fingers.

  Glancing at Kylan, he gave me no assistance except a terse nod and a lopsided smirk.

  Damn him. He was reveling in this way too much. And was probably making me pay for having to come and rescue me.

  “Don’t worry, Calla,” Kylan murmured, casually crossing his arms over his chest. “Brone’s bark is much worse than his bite.”

  Brone’s piercing eyes settled on Kylan again, his lips curling in a ferocious sneer. “That’s because you’ve been fortunate enough to escape it.” His attention swung back to me with his arm still extended, so I provided him with my quivering hand and a tightlipped smile.

  His rough and calloused fingers swallowed mine whole, but his grip remained delicate.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Calla,” he declared in a rich baritone voice, with a bow of his head.

  When his head lifted, I couldn’t help but peer into his deep, obsidian eyes. He appeared to be in his late twenties, in mortal years. For all I knew, he could have been hundreds of years old. Hundreds. That thought alone sent my mind reeling.

  The giant studied my face, then he smiled. His smile wasn’t scary, but warm and sweet. It transformed his features and gave me a glimpse of what lay beneath the rough exterior. I caught a glimmer of tenderness and wondered how many he’d revealed it to. Then, to my complete surprise, he raised my fingers up to his lips, which were soft—a complete contradiction to the rest of his rough exterior—and kissed them.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Brone,” I replied softly.

  Brone leaned forward and murmured in my ear. “Let me know if these bastards cause you trouble. I’ll take care of them.”

  I swallowed the massive knot in my throat before responding, “Thanks.”

  As Brone walked away, the other two males stood and made their way over. It was evident they weren’t thrilled to see me, and I didn’t blame them.

  The first one had dark mahogany eyes and dark brown hair—half drawn up in a bun, while the rest hung down past his shoulders.

  “Calla, it is a pleasure to meet you.” He bowed at the waist in front of me. “My name is Feng,” he said with a strong, foreign accent. He had to have come from Asiatica, an eastern continent noted for gold and fine silks. His attire was the same color as the others but tailored differently. Feng’s tunic was longer, falling mid-calf, with a red and gold belt secured around his waistline. He was around six-foot, slender yet muscular, and carried himself with refined elegance, which I could only describe as a warrior’s grace.

  “Nice to meet you, Feng.” I tipped my head to him. Kylan chuckled, but Feng gave me an approving smile that seemed to ease the tangles of anxiety in my belly.

  As Feng stepped back, the next male stepped forward with eyes as gray as a stormy day. I’d never seen eyes that color before and stared much longer than I should have. But the twinkling in those eyes said he didn’t mind. He also stood around six-foot tall with sun-kissed skin and sculpted features. Muscles flexed under his long black coat, while golden-brown hair was clean cut on the sides and tousled on top, adding to his dashing look.

  “Andrés, at your service,” he said with a glint in his eyes, bowing shallowly at the waist.

  I’d heard his accent before—deep and velvety—from a man who’d sailed from Almeria to trade with my father. He presented me with his hand, and I received it. Then, he tenderly pressed a kiss against my fingers, causing my cheeks to warm. His grayish eyes met mine, along with the deepest dimples I’d ever seen.

  How had Trystan managed to secure such beautiful assassins from other continents to be part of his personal cadre?

  The girl, who stood right behind him, heaved a sigh and all but shoved Andrés to the side before thrusting her hand out to me. As soon as I touched her, she jerked back, like I’d shocked her. Opening and closing her fingers, she glared at Kylan.

  “What is it?” Kylan asked, taking a cautious step closer.

  I stood still, realizing this girl didn’t like me. She made no attempt to disguise her emotions or expressions. She was around my age, and a few inches shorter. Her hair was wild—the color of fire—and she wore it in a loose braid down her back. Stray strands fell around her pale, freckled, heart-shaped face. Her eyes were the color of jade, her lips full and pink.

  “She has power, but not like anything I’ve encountered before.” Her bewildered eyes settled on me.

  “She’s a newborn,” Kylan replied simply. “She will possess significant power during the early stages.”

  “Perhaps.” Her manicured brow rose. “Or, perhaps she’s hiding something.”

  Hiding something? I was itching to test out t
hose significant powers Kylan mentioned on this girl who looked like she wanted to drive a wooden stake through my heart. But I didn’t feel stronger. Maybe it was because I was still extremely weak from the transformation.

  “I have nothing to hide,” I finally spoke. “And it wasn’t my idea to come here. I was a mortal until your boss bit me and turned me into this bloodsucking monster.” I quickly held up my hands and glanced at Kylan with a worried expression. “No offense.”

  A mischievous smile tugged on the girl’s lips. “I like her.”

  Kylan groaned as the girl stepped forward and held out her hand to me again. “I’m Melaina.” She sniffed the air between us and her freckled nose scrunched up. “Did you feed before you arrived?” I swallowed my growing humiliation. “I didn’t mean to offend you earlier. Come,” she ordered, seizing my wrist, tugging me toward the fire. “You can get cleaned up over here.”

  We sat on boulders placed around the fire. “Sit. Relax. I’m certain you’ve suffered a few hellish days,” Melaina said, taking a seat across from me. She picked up a large pack from her side, sifted through it, and drew out a rag. She then unscrewed a flask and poured some water on it before tossing it to me. “Keep it.”

  Through the fire and smoke, she grinned. But I could tell that behind the grin was something lethal. Something hidden that made Trystan hire her to protect me.

  “Thanks,” I said, rubbing my neck and chest, the rag turning a brilliant crimson.

  I searched through my pack and grabbed one of the few spare shirts I’d packed. Pulling my arms inside the bloodied one, I slipped my clean top over my head and started manipulating the wet one off. In moments, I’d made the transition and tucked the bloodstained tunic into the rag, rolled it up tightly and placed it in my bag.

  Feeling cleaner, I peered at Melaina. Through the fire, her eyes set on me, brow pulling tight.

  “I can see why Trystan chose you,” she finally said as the others joined us around the fire.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know what you mean.” I wasn’t sure if she was being polite or rude.