by Emily Shore
I woke gasping, but the feeling of damp socks hacked my gasp in half. Damp from morning dew. In the woods again. My first instinct was flight, but no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t will my wings to release. There was no hunter. There was no threat. So, I looked around, realizing how familiar these woods were. And the house in the clearing just beyond. Or rather, the small manor. In the darkness, it always looked creepy with its old English architecture, the stone walls, and rotunda room with towered roof on the east side. In the early morning with the dawn light radiating on the roof, the stone shimmered silver and gold. Raoul’s manor. And there he was tilling a new plot of land on the border of his property, reminding me of a classic farmer with black breeches and a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It seemed he had a knack for catching me in odd situations.
“Reina?” Raoul threw down his tiller and wandered toward me. I was more than thankful to be fully dressed. “The jeans and flannel shirt are certainly a step up, but I'm wagering your socks must be very muddy.”
My cheeks grew warm when he reached up to pick a stray leaf out of my hair. His presence was comforting. So was the lack of corpses in the area. I studied his property. “It's been awhile since I've visited. But your house still looks beautiful.”
Raoul eyed his manor and squared his shoulders, proud. “Never get tired of it. Or the maintenance. Or the gardens.”
Bitten vampires rarely slept, and I knew Raoul worked much at night. Tree roots grew in Raoul’s blood, which gave him more than just a green thumb: all his fingers were green.
“So, you managed to escape again?” Raoul nudged my arm, teasing.
“It would seem so,” I opened my hands, shrugging. “Even evaded a Guardian. I bet they're all out looking for me. I'm sure it won't be too long before they get here.”
“Considering our previous encounters, I would say that is a fair assumption.”
“Might as well enjoy a few minutes of peace.” I strode past Raoul, making my way toward his heated outdoor pool.
Instead of scolding me or insisting on returning me home immediately as I thought he would, Raoul followed me and watched as I peeled off my wet socks and rolled up the bottoms of my jeans. I dipped my calves in the warm water, reveling in how it caressed my skin. After another moment, Raoul relaxed next to me, close enough for our legs to brush one another's. More warmth crept into my cheeks because I couldn't help but admire the sheen of muscle rolling along his lower legs. Since I’d reached high school, Raoul and I were rarely alone together. And I understood why.
“Penny for your thoughts, Reina?”
“Why do you always call me Reina? Instead of Rin?”
“I've always felt a…fond affection for your full name. From its meaning to the sound of it. Coming from my era, nicknames seem disrespectful.”
Bracing my hands on the cement, fingers just a fraction from his, I chuckled, “Ironic, considering how adaptable you are.”
“Can't argue with that.”
I straightened just then and grinned, my mouth playful. “Do it for me.”
“Reina…” Raoul rolled his eyes a little and angled his face to the side, stalling.
“Please?” I pleaded. It had been too long since he’d performed for me. As a child, Raoul’s theatrics always cheered me up on a rough day.
Raoul sighed but his shoulders relented before he obliged me, permitting his features to shift and morph. His sculpted cheekbones sharpened ever so slightly, hair lightening from oil-dipped locks to brown syrup curls. From eyes dark and classic as crime to wandering blue, dreamy and dignified. And Raoul raised his head, pinched his lips together as if preening himself and imitated the guise he'd assumed, “Reina Elizabeth Caraway…” He drew the 'way' out, so I giggled at his humorous impression. “You are not stepping foot outside this house until you try on this dress that I made especially for you! I spent two days sewing every scrap of lace and sequins and satin and silk and…” Raoul shrugged and returned back to his rightful form, surrendering. “I ran out of fabric terms.”
I clapped my hands together once, blowing a laugh through them. “Spot on. If I hadn't seen it first, I would've thought it was him.”
“Heath is simple to imitate.”
“What about me?”
Raoul sniggered. I blanched at his reaction, uncertain of its meaning. One of his dark locks strayed onto his cheekbone, practically summoning me to reach up and tuck it behind his ear. “If I could imitate you in any situation, it would be when you’re walking in the woods. Your lips parted slightly, eyes soaking in everything, feet bare, and your notebook in your jacket pocket, ready to scrawl any manner of poems. Our love of nature is one of many common interests uniting us,” he concluded.
I couldn’t help but smile even if Raoul was far more into growing nature while I just preferred to hike among it. But his revelation was so sincere, I bit one side of my lower lip, restraining my hand from reaching for his. Instead, I managed to gaze back at his reflection in the pool, not daring to look up at him yet. There was still much about Raoul I didn’t know.
“Something you want to ask?”
At first, I hesitated, joining my arms up to my elbows before summoning up the courage to eye him. “I don't know much about your past, but I've heard things. I know you were a human blood drinker.”
Raoul’s entire body tensed, the muscles in his neck flexing. “That is a time of my life I'd rather not discuss.”
“As cliché as that sounds, I can understand. But remember, I'm not a little girl anymore.”
“No.” Raoul’s eyes softened on me, the barest mask of mystery there falling to confirm my suspicions. “No, you're not.”
When the backs of his knuckles traced my cheek, I denied my instinct to hold my breath, resolving to feel every shiver like a wing’s tip across my neck. I didn’t dare close my eyes. Instead, I leaned closer, welcoming in. I noticed how his veins throbbed with silver blood rising to the surface when his mouth descended. After his lips curved onto mine, I finally closed my eyes, trusting the kiss, trusting his mouth―cold and soft as a frosted flower―capsizing mine. And then, I looked up. For one second. A prick of blood red in his pupils. His neck muscles strained. And I knew why. He wasn’t holding his breath. I knew I should have pulled away. But I wasn’t ready to lose this, to lose him. So, I tried kissing back. Raoul’s fingers sunk into my hair, his other hand cupping the side of my neck. Raoul kissing me was perfect…just like everything else he did. In some ways, Raoul was just too perfect.
So was his timing when he stopped. Right before Heath appeared from the side of the house. I pursed my lips together before biting my tongue to get a grip on reality. It wasn't enough. The kiss had ignited my cheeks, and I had to splash pool water on my face to make the blush wither, silently ridiculing my stupid, crazy human hormones.
While I tended to my cheeks, Raoul eased off the edge of the pool and greeted my brother, “We were wondering when you would arrive.”
“Should've figured she'd wind up with you,” snorted Heath, approaching us from behind.
Raoul dropped his arms to his sides. “She could've done worse.”
“I'm just trying to figure out how she made it past the Queen’s own Guardian!”
“Oh?” I rose, wiping my hands off, knitting my brows low.
“He's been tracking her for an hour!” explained Heath, more to Raoul. “Scent was all muddled. Took him halfway to the southern border before it doubled back toward our house. Sure would like to know what’s going on.”
“You're not the only one,” I added, tugging down my jean legs.
“You’ve got an hour or so before school,” warned Heath before gesturing me over and stringing an arm around my shoulder. “Raoul. Have fun gardening or whatever it is you do all day. I've got a human runaway to get back home and an espresso with my name on it. Later.”
Heath was certainly more annoyed today than yesterday, but annoyance was better than frustration or rage. After we'd left Raoul’s property, he didn't
say much. The silence only proved an enemy since it led us right back to Raoul's kiss.
“Wow,” commented Heath but in an eyebrow-raised sort of surprise rather than a speechless one. “Didn't expect that. Seen you flirt with him in the past, but―”
“That was personal!” I yelled and smacked him on the backside of his head.
“Could've fooled me with how loud your freaking thoughts were!” He countered.
“Oh, why did I have to get a telepath for a brother?” I groaned, my face diving into my hands.
“Hmm…I’ll hold this secret over your head for a while. Consider it penance for all your recent midnight trips. Understand, there’s a part of your mind I can't access. Only reason I’ve tuned into your thoughts more lately.”
I folded my hands across my chest, grumbling.
“Nothing personal, sis,” added Heath. “I’m just trying to get a handle on your subconscious. But I can't open the door. Something or someone very powerful is blocking me. And truth be told, it freaks me out.”
Chapter Fourteen
Skip’s Theory
At the end of the school day, I checked in the auditorium to see if Heath was ready to take me home.
“I'm up to my ears in costumes!” My brother barely looked up from his work to acknowledge me. Even if he no longer attended here, he still wielded influence. And enjoyed the challenge of The Phantom of the Opera. “Do you know how much effort it takes to create a hundred costumes for the masquerade scene single-handedly? Vampires might not get tired, but you are interfering with my muse, Rin! You're draining my chi!”
Pressing my hands together, I bowed my head to him, teasing, “Well, I wouldn't want to damage my brother's chi.” As Heath eased a piece of fabric under the sewing machine, caressing it like he was having a love affair, I added, “Good luck, sensei. So, can I drive home, then?”
“Get someone to escort you out of the building. And straight home. Got it?” It was the first time Heath looked up from his work.
“Got it.”
Straight home followed by sneaking off for training with Skip.
“Does your ability run in your family?” I wondered as we trekked through the woods back to the school.
Training had progressed well. In Skip’s words, I was a “prodigy”.
“Abilities like mine tend to be inherited. My father was a persuader,” he revealed. “My mother carries another gift. My sisters mostly take after her.”
“I don't know much about your family,” I said, stuffing my hands in my pockets. “All I know is that there was some tragedy when you were young. Something to do with your father dying.”
Skip sighed through his nose, lowering his head briefly before nodding. “Yes, he was taken from this world far too early. He had a lot of potential.”
“So do you.”
“Thank you for the compliment.” Skip beamed and for the first time, gesturing, sheepish, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. “I was on my way to visit his grave. Would you like to join me?”
Heath’s order popped up in my head. More than likely, he was too engrossed in his work to have checked up on me. Plus, my parents had Council duties and meetings tonight, and Brian was off doing whatever Brian did during our training. Still…
“Is it close?”
Skip grinned.
It was the first time he’d carried me in vampire speed. His frame was sculpted and well-born like it held up the weight of crowns, altogether different from Raoul and his modest mannerism. Raoul carried himself like a soldier, forbearing and alert for any sort of siege while remaining close to the shadows―a sharp contrast to Skip's kingly confidence. Though I shook aside the scatterbrained comparisons, some thoughts still stuck glitter-like as we headed down a path between two Le Couvènte college buildings.
When Skip paused to stare down at me, I shifted my weight, uncomfortable with his shadow baptizing me. “Something wrong?”
“Your blood is different today.”
“Excuse me?” I swallowed. It wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned my blood. My family didn't make references often, but Skip was undaunted.
“There's a spicier note to it that I didn't catch earlier.”
I leaned away from his shadow. “I didn't realize blood changed.”
Skip dipped his head lower. “Perhaps not the composition, but moods can alter the scent…and taste.”
“How do you know if you've never tasted human blood?”
Skip pursed his lips together as if forming an explanation before he pointed to the sky. “See that bird…” He indicated to the hawk circling the trees behind the college. “When birds are in flight, their blood smells wholly different before an actual hunt. As soon as we hunt them, fear soaks the blood. But when it comes to birds, some vampires enjoy tasting the blood before the fear when the only feeling was freedom.”
“Well, I'm not a bird.” My stomach did a little flip when Skip leaned closer to frame one side of my body.
“You smelled quite similar the night I escorted you to the Chateau rooftop. Is this act equally as rebellious?”
Steeling myself, I decided to play along, crossed my arms over my chest, and smiled, “You might say that. A little dangerous for the only human in our city.”
“A shared danger. Tasting human blood is punished by banishment. Draining a human is punishable by death. So, tell me, Rin, are you in more danger of me or am I in more danger from you?”
I fortified my stomach from lurching, sighed instead, and walked out of his half box. “I guess that depends on two things.” I advanced down the pathway.
“And those two things are?” Skip asked, his shadow a reasonable step behind mine.
I tossed my curls over my shoulder and concluded, “How tempting I am,” I marked him, adding, “and how controlled you are.”
“Touché, Miss. Caraway.” He matched my stride before taking the lead. “And if you'll follow me, the grave site is behind the college.”
Le Couvènte College was enormous with secured land and a rich feeding ground. Skip led me down a concrete path that wound between two buildings with glass windows on each side. No faces between them. Either empty classrooms or vacant student housing. A little daunted by how the path wove to the right and to the left, I did my best to match Skip’s pace. When he offered his hand, I accepted. Encouraged that he knew exactly where he was going, I settled all the while knowing the risk I was taking. Or we were taking. The Victorian gardens with carefully clipped hedges trimming the main path, ivy-overwhelmed trellises, helpful bird baths, urns on pedestals cupping generous ferns, and the iron gazebo clothed in greenery were enchanting but still didn’t stop me from digging my nails into Skip’s palm to keep my fingers steady.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” Skip admired the environs, but I got the feeling he was distracting me with conversation.
“Yes, but I’m not really into gardens,” I confessed.
“What are you into?”
“Hiking for nature. But mainly…outdoor festivals, theater productions, or a museum.”
“Ah, a girl after my own heart. We both enjoy social opportunities. Sometime, I’ll take you to my favorite haunt: The Museum of Paranormal Phenomena. But I wanted to bring you here first. Did you know there is an ancient crypt underneath the garden?”
“Is that where your father is buried?”
“In a way. The crypt is really an underground vault of coffins containing some former Council members and prestigious figures of Le Couvènte who are now deceased. The Museum of Paranormal Phenomena holds the Founders of Le Couvènte. Both it and this place happen to be my father's grave.”
Skip paused when the path led us to an arched, iron bridge above a creek. Just beyond the bridge was the crypt. It wasn't the size or appearance but the knowledge of an underground vault that sent chills along my spine like spiders spinning silk.
“My father donated his bones and teeth, including fangs, to a security project to ensure the safety of both burial sites.
As you know, vampire bones and teeth are harder than any other substance: steel, diamonds, iron. So, a piece of him here and a piece of him there, literally.”
When Skip opened the crypt door and led me inside, the chills froze on my spine. Even the knots in my stomach turned icy, my skin going colder than the winter well water. Goose bumps erupted on my skin like disturbed bubbles. Everything triggered my dream, my nightmare. Especially the descending staircase spilling down a long corridor. Except this corridor had electric lamps on each side.
“A generator powers the lights during the day but turns off after visiting hours,” explained Skip before motioning to the artificial lamps.
“Not that vampires have an issue with seeing in the dark,” I remarked, relieved by the light.
Pausing to glance back at me, Skip smirked and blinked once, showing off the unique dilation feature that granted all vampires keen perception. Eerily similar to a cat, Skip's pupils contorted into slits in the dim lighting, but the green of his irises glistened, reminding me of dragon scales rather than the sea glass. I tried not to bow beneath them. Down here, it would be so simple for him to bury his fangs in my throat and drink his fill of my blood. My skin prickled from the knowledge.
Why was I taking such an unnecessary, foolhardy risk? Short of Skip saving my life, the short amount of training we’d completed, and our Chateau meeting, how much did I know about him? I knew the feeling of his hands knitting the fabric of my wings back together. I knew how he’d carved at my soft edges in training, honing them to sharpen diamond-like, fit for a queen’s crown. Would I break tonight?
After a few more moments, we rounded the corner of the corridor. Once I saw the magnificent set of double doors bordering the coffin room, I dropped Skip's hand and gushed:
“They’re beautiful!”
Fused into intricate designs, the doors were all constructed of bones with vampire teeth and fangs jutting out from them like sharp pearls. Upon our approach, I went so far as to touch a bone, wondering which generous vampire it had belonged to. Skip moved to a small screen mounted on the right-hand stone wall. He pressed his index finger onto a small gap just below the screen. I heard a click and watched the screen hum to life and reveal one word:
