Dark Secrets

by Madeline Pryce

  Dark, elegant music drifted through the house, mixed with the low hum of conversation and clinking glasses. Somewhere, someone moaned—a heady mixture of pleasure and a touch of pain. My nose twitched at the scents of blood and sex lingering in the air. A subtle buzzing filled my head as I felt each vampire milling throughout the house. I’d never been around so many of them at once, or sensed them so easily.

  They belong to you. Can you feel it?

  Oh, I felt it all right. I shook my head and banished the sound of Julian’s voice. The dagger I’d strapped to my thigh was a cold, reassuring block of weight I used as a focus to keep my shields in place.

  As we passed through the anteroom, closer to the vampires dressed in expensive evening wear, I categorized the changes since I’d last been here. A rich wood-finished trim lined the top and bottom of the beige walls, contrasting with the cream décor. It was hard not to pick out the spots where Julian had kissed me, where’d he’d pushed me up against the wall and fucked me. It was disgusting how easily I’d fallen into his web.

  I’d been fifteen and grieving the death of my father, unsure of what my future held despite my so-called gifts. There’d been something so alluring about Julian, something forbidden. My rebellion had started out as a “Fuck you!” to the agency that had cost me both my parents but ended up something twisted and dark.

  We passed an open, curving stairwell that led to the upper level of the house where the bedrooms, drawing rooms and studies that rich people felt they needed were located. Conversation stopped the moment we walked through the set of double doors into the ballroom.

  The wood floors gleamed, reflecting the light from the dozen high-hanging chandeliers. In the center of the room a massive table stretched from one wall to the other. What lay on it had my palm itching for a stake. My instincts flared, warring with a hunger that revolted me.

  Humans. Bound. Gagged. Naked. Artfully arranged to create an elaborate centerpiece. Vampires drank openly from their necks, arms and groins. Dark rivulets of blood rolled over various shades of skin and my fangs pulsed at the sight.

  As if my gaze called to them, the feeding vampires looked from their meal and stared at me with burning blue eyes. I swallowed, lifting my chin and allowing the cold, hate-filled disapproval I felt to show on my face.

  “Put your weapon away,” Julian said calmly.

  I hadn’t realized I’d pulled my knife.

  “These pets are here willingly. No harm will come to them, I assure you.”

  “No harm?” I lifted an eyebrow in disbelief and I motioned to the all-you-could-eat buffet. “They’ll bleed to death.”

  Julian shook his head. “Their masters won’t let them die.”

  “Masters?” I had to force myself to look away from the scene.

  My sire turned to me and used a finger under my chin to force my mouth closed. “This is the vampire life, min askling. We drink blood. We fuck. We hold dominion over humans. The sooner you realize this, the better it will be for everyone. Tonight, you take your place and leave your old life behind.”

  I clenched my jaw. “I don’t want this life.”

  “The choice has already been made.”

  Julian tried to stroke my cheek, but I pulled away before he could touch me.

  Don’t make a scene, Ella, it only makes you look pathetic, Julian snarled at me through the bond. The bastard had managed to evade my shields.

  He plastered a haughty grin on his face and hooked his arm through mine, pulling me through the crowd. Eiven was a steady presence at my back, the two other wolves flanking him. Vampires stared openly at me—each set of eyes I met held a challenge. The hushed whispers circulating the room hit my ears, each one a slap to my pride.

  “She’s pitiable.”

  “Weak.”

  “She isn’t fit to rule, not fit to live.”

  “She sides with the demons, she will betray us all.”

  With each passing second, my anger took hold, coaxing my predator out to play. When we reached a raised platform at the far side of the oblong room where side-by-side thrones sat, Julian transferred his grip and turned me to face the crowd.

  His voice rang out, some subliminal rhythm garnering the rapt attention of the masses around us. “The world changes around us.” He paused to scan the horde. “Because of that change we must evolve, we must rise above those beneath us.”

  Several vampires nodded, willing to buy whatever crap Julian slung without a second thought. A few, though—the shifty-eyed ones lingering in the back—weren’t swayed so easily. I ran my gaze over them, one at a time, tasting their power, feeding from their strength.

  Unlike the minds I’d touched earlier, these vampires had a strong fortress around them, making it impossible for me to penetrate. While they weren’t dressed any differently from the rest of the crowd, I knew these men were part of the queen’s former inner circle. What I guessed was resentment flared within their gazes.

  My instincts rose in warning, a fight-or-flight response filling me with the need to defend myself with the pointy end of a weapon.

  “I present to you Ella Grey, Vampire Queen—your mistress. Bow now and pledge your allegiance.”

  Julian’s voice snapped me back to the present and I realized I’d tuned out part of his speech while locked in silent battle with my opposition. I looked around at the vampires who dropped to their knees, willing to follow me. The six at the back of the room, however, didn’t move a goddamn muscle.

  A surge of savage pride filled me and a smirk lifted a corner of my mouth. Julian wasn’t as impressed.

  He curled his upper lip. “I told you to bow to your queen.”

  One of the vampires, the largest of the lot with a riot of black curls and midnight skin, stepped forward. He didn’t bother to maneuver through the crowd. No, he plowed a direct path, knocking over those in his way.

  Tendrils of energy preceded him, telling me my first guess was correct. He wasn’t your run-of-the-mill vampire. “She isn’t a queen, and you, Julian, aren’t a king,” he declared.

  A collective gasp rang out. Julian phazed forward, a seamless exit and entry he made look so effortless. He stood toe to toe with the master vampire who opposed him. Two dozen badass men dressed head to toe in black combat gear materialized into the room, guns aimed at the interloper, as if Julian had planned this.

  His voice was a feral growl of immense displeasure. “Are you challenging me?”

  The vampire shook his head, a slow sure move. A smile curved his full mouth in a way that showed exactly how unperturbed he was by the situation. Nothing about this intimidated him. Not Julian. Not the guns. Not me.

  I didn’t know who this guy was, but he had balls, I’d give him that. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked between him and my sire. The testosterone and tension mounted, making my skin prickle with anticipation.

  “I challenge her, not you.” The vampire turned his hot gaze on me, sweeping me from head to toe. He curled his lip as if he wasn’t impressed by what he saw. “She is nothing more than a demon’s whore. I refuse to bow down to some schoolgirl who caught your fancy and ruined everything.”

  Rage was a swift manifestation that had me moving before I could think. I phazed forward and shoved Julian out of the way, taking his place in front of the hostile vampire. Eiven was there seconds later, grabbing my arm and trying to pull me to safety.

  “Back off,” I growled, yanking my arm free.

  I stared up at the vampire whose name I didn’t know and mentally pushed everyone else from the room until he was the only thing I focused on. The bindings around my soul pulsed, restricting the onslaught of power roiling through me. I felt like a caged animal waiting for the chance to hunt in freedom.

  “What the hell did you just call me?” I asked.

  He sneered, twisting his handsome mask into something unattractive. The vampire reached out as if to touch me, but I was quicker. I batted his hand to the side. Anger danced in his eyes.

 
“You aren’t fit to be queen,” he growled.

  The crowd murmured. Julian pressed at my mind, his agitation clear. If he interceded, it made me look feeble, which in turn made him look weak. But at the core of it, he didn’t trust me to do what needed to be done.

  I straightened my shoulders. “No, I’m probably not fit, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stand here while you call me a whore.”

  Act instead of react.

  Flashes of images hit me, the times when I’d relented, when I’d turned my back on what I’d spent my entire life learning and shied away from violence. No more. I was Ella fucking Grey, Vampire Queen.

  I pulled the knife from its sheath in one smooth, flawless move. Pressing forward, I stabbed the blade into flesh and ripped a bloody path from shoulder to stomach. Blood sprayed into the air from the force of my attack, splattering my neck and stomach where the gown’s neckline plunged.

  It wasn’t enough.

  I pulled the knife free and surged up with my leg, burying my knee into his dick. He dropped forward on a howl and I took advantage of his distraction. Aiming for his thigh, I brought my weapon down, slicing across his femoral artery.

  He crumpled to the floor, cupping the gurgling fountain of blood staining his pants. I toed him onto his back and stepped on his throat, pressing my heel against his windpipe. It was a conscious struggle to keep from puncturing his skin with the sharp point of my stiletto. I stared at him, letting him see the predator who’d come to visit. I tucked my knife back into its holder, giving him what might be his last glimpse of panties.

  “Call me a whore again,” I applied more pressure and knew if I tried hard enough I could shove my foot through his skin and break his neck, “and I’ll aim for the head.”

  Without waiting for an answer, I turned and started for the exit. Now that the fight was over and the tension in the room no longer at DEFCON one, I was tired. Pressure at the base of my skull had my head throbbing with what was sure to be a migraine. Blood covered the front of me, making my skin itch where it dried.

  I needed a shower. I needed Micah. And maybe a hamburger.

  “Min askling,” Julian said, phazing in front of me.

  I glared. “Get out of my way.”

  He cupped the nape of my neck and pulled my head back, forcing me to look into his face. A nostalgic hunger filled his gaze. He licked his lips. “I forgot how truly spectacular you can be.”

  I gagged a little. Removing his hand one finger at a time, I struggled to get my next sentence out with a straight face. “I’m glad I gave you some jerk-off material for later. Now get out of my way.”

  Julian chuckled and touched a hand to the base of my spine. When I would have veered left, toward the front of the house, he steered me right.

  “I have something for you.”

  “The homicidal vampire who fantasized about killing me was enough. Thanks, but no thanks.”

  We stopped in front of black lacquered doors. I shook my head and reeled back. I knew this room. Knew what I’d lost in there.

  “Nope.”

  “It’s just a room,” he said and withdrew a key from his pocket.

  Just a room my ass.

  Julian unlocked the door and ushered me through. Inside, the massive area with vaulted ceilings was half library, half office. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the walls, as if the entire room was made of books. I had memories of lying on the sofa and flipping through page after page while Julian attended to business.

  “Julian,” I said and hated that my voice came out in a whine, as if just being here transported me back seven years.

  A black and gray brick fireplace dominated the north wall, the only place books didn’t inhabit. Two large leather sofas sat facing each other, an expensive-looking coffee table between them. Julian led me to the couch and motioned for me to sit.

  I swallowed and stared at the spot I’d lost my virginity. “Why are we here?”

  “I told you, I have a gift.”

  “And that had to be done, here?”

  Half of his mouth curled up. “Sit. Would you like something to drink?”

  “I’ll stand. Now cut the crap.”

  Julian swiped his thumb over his lower lip and lowered his gaze to mine. “You know I’d do anything for you, yes?”

  Apprehension had my fingers twitching for my weapon. “Define ‘anything’.”

  Julian walked across the room to his desk and poured himself a drink from a crystal decanter. Did he still have whiskey in there, or had his tastes changed? Nope. I didn’t really care. He slammed back the drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His actions were so…un-Julian-like. What the hell was wrong with him? I tried testing the bond between us to get a sense of what had crawled up his ass and I found the black void from earlier. My sire was closed up tight.

  He grabbed a long, rectangular package before returning to me. He sat on the edge of the coffee table and handed me the present.

  Reason dictated I walk away and not look back. Curiosity had me taking the offering. It was heavier than I expected. I looked from the simple brown paper to him.

  I sighed his name and handed him back the gift. “I don’t want this. I don’t want you. Micah is my life.”

  He shook his head and refused to take the box from me. “Just open it.”

  Resigned to the fact that arguing would only prolong my time with him, I slipped my finger under the flap of paper and unwrapped, uncovering a black, hinged antique box. I opened the lid, the rusted brackets creaking, and stared down at the gleaming obsidian blade cushioned on a bed of scarlet velvet. Jewels of rich blues, reds and greens lined the slender hilt made specifically for a woman’s grip.

  “Oh my God,” I gasped and reached out to reverently stroke the black blade with the tip of my finger. “It’s beautiful.”

  Julian wrapped his hand around the hilt and lifted the ancient weapon from its casing. When he spoke, he looked at the knife and not me. “This is what they call the Blade of Souls.”

  His words had me jerking my attention from my reflection in the blade to Julian. My uncle’s warning came back to me. “But…Richard…”

  I didn’t even know where to start.

  “I love you, Ella.” His gaze clashed with mine. Something I’d never seen on him filled his face—desperation. “I’ll do anything to keep you by my side.”

  I took an instinctive step back. “That’s the second time you’ve said that.”

  “I know you love him…and I’m sorry, min askling. I am.”

  I was given no other warning. Julian shifted his hold and surged forward. The smooth black blade melted through my chest, parting flesh as if it were butter. I gasped at the fiery fingers of pain and had a total what-the-fuck moment. I looked down at the knife protruding from me, blood spilling from the wound, then up into Julian’s eyes.

  Sorrow filled his gaze.

  The pain spread through me, stealing my breath, and I stumbled back. The knife grew hotter and hotter. I cried out at the burning agony that paralyzed me, keeping me from ripping the damn thing out of my heart. The shadow wrapped around my soul hissed like some giant cat sensing danger. Darkness filled my vision, eclipsing everything.

  I was only vaguely aware of falling back, of Julian catching me and pulling me into him. Cold fingers smoothed the hair from my face as I gasped for breath that wouldn’t come. My soul came apart and in my dark place, I could see the process clearly.

  One facet at a time, my essence uncoiled. Layer by layer, the parts that belonged to Micah and the ones that were mine fell away, disintegrating into nothing—leaving me empty. I screamed, writhing, gasping, clawing at the unbearable pain of having my mate—my soul—ripped from me.

  Holy fuck.

  For the second time in my life, Julian had killed me. Only this time, like a mindless twit, I only had myself to blame.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I paced the length of my cell, each step a loud echo against the concrete floor and stone
walls. Minutes after Ella had left, my uncle had shown up with both Dante and Eli. Castro had anticipated my attachment, my inability to keep up my part of an agreement in the stupid contract Julian had had a team of lawyers draw up.

  Red consumed my vision. Inside me, my demon howled, the need to find Ella and bring her home an instinct neither of us could fight.

  “Fucking prick, asshole.” The low, continuous growl emanating from my chest gave my voice a feral edge—half demon, half man.

  There wasn’t nearly enough space for me to work off the rage spiraling through me. With each pass, I trailed my fingers over the steel bars trapping me inside this fucking cage and glared at my brother.

  Eli sat on the ground in front of me, his back pressed to the wall, his legs stretched out before him. Chunks of glass littered the floor like gleaming diamonds from the glass tumbler I’d thrown at him.

  He lifted a bottle of cheap whiskey to his lips. “I’m not letting you out.”

  I seized hold of the bars with both hands, straining with everything I had to bend them apart. My muscles trembled under the strain and still my prison held true. Leave it to fucking Lizbeth to have a dungeon in the basement.

  “Fuck!” I bellowed and pushed away to look for something to destroy. “I swear to fucking Christ, the second I get out of here I’m kicking the shit out of you.”

  “Even more motivation for me not to let you out, thanks, bro.” He took another swig before closing his eyes and leaning the back of his head against the wall.

  I snarled, throwing my body at the cage. Over and over, I rammed forward, intent on getting free even if it killed me. The bond between me and Ella was stretched tight, a noose around my neck that was moments from killing me.

  “You. Will. Pa—” Searing agony ripped through me and stole my breath mid-rant. The bars narrowed and then widened, moving in and out of focus. My brother’s form blurred into two, three, no four different shapes. Another jolt of electric torture hit me hard and I fell to my knees.