by Susan Harris
My senses prickled, snapping my attention to the right as a shadowy figure stepped out of the tree cover and into the moonlight. He was tall, standing at almost six feet, and lean, but I knew lean didn’t mean he couldn’t overpower me. He had a pinched-looking face, his eyes narrow and snakelike as he tilted his head, observing me.
Lifting a hand, he beckoned me forward. I snorted and mirrored his gesture, telling him to come to me. He took a few hesitant steps, then flashed me a fanged grin, looking over his shoulder as if he were waiting for someone else.
Could the rogue have a partner in crime?
Wanting to lure him out, I dropped down from my perch on the wall, my Chucks squelching in the mud, the wetness soaking through my shoes as I walked toward the forest. Stopping halfway, I held out my hands and shrugged, halting my advance so the rogue would come to me. I saw him consider it, and as I waited my hands snaked behind my back, ready to unleash my sai and rid the world of this stain the moment he drew close.
Adrenaline set fire to my veins, my fangs slipping free of my gums, my muscles tensing at the prospect of unleashing the coiled tension in my body. I was poised to strike, ready for battle, and I would be victorious.
Suddenly, the rogue turned on his heel and darted into the forest. Cursing, I started after him, but a hand fell on my shoulder before I could chase after the murderer.
Quick as lightning, I pulled one of my sai free and spun, pressing the tip of my weapon to the flesh of the person who’d managed to creep up on me.
Nickolai did not so much as flinch as my sai kissed the flesh at his neck, although he did have the good graces to hold up his hands in apology. I snarled at him, the adrenaline in my veins needing an outlet for its aggression, but I knew I would not get it.
Hissing as I yanked my sai away from Nickolai’s skin, I sheathed the weapons and stalked away from him, growling low in my throat, trying to appease the monster in me to no avail. My fists clenched and unclenched by my side as I tried to reign in my temper.
“Ryan.”
Nickolai’s tone was full of authority, demanding obedience, and it only frayed my temper even more. I snarled, my gaze narrowing as I turned back to face him. The crown prince stood smugly before me, and I wanted to punch him for disturbing my hunt. How sweet it would feel to let my fist connect with his face, to feel bone crunching and skin splitting under my knuckles.
He said my name again, and my temper flared, my feet moving of their own accord until I was nearly nose to chest with him. “You fucked up my hunt,” I growled low in my throat.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Hit me if it will make you feel better.”
Oh, by Eve, I wished I could just punch him in his stupid face. But I could just imagine his mother asking why her son had a broken jaw, and me explaining it was because I’d wanted to wipe the smugness off his face. I’d be facing a court martial, a charge of endangering a member of the royal family. In the heat of the moment, no doubt it’d be worth it. But afterward, I knew I’d regret it.
Being the petty little creature I was, I pressed the palms of my hands against Nickolai’s chest, shoving hard enough he staggered back a few steps. It felt good, but instead of sating my adrenaline, it only thrilled me even more, made me crave it even more.
Anger flashed in Nickolai’s eyes, and his calm expression slipped. I pushed him again and he reached for me, flashing his own fangs as he did. I slipped under his arms, pushing him again as I stayed out of his grasp.
We faced each other, both of us breathing hard, circling each other like lions, ready to unleash our claws and make the other bleed. Nickolai’s nostrils flared, his aggression subsiding as I lurched forward only to be grabbed around the waist from behind. Before I even had time to react, Nickolai was snarling at the person who’d dared to stop me.
“Now, now, children. Don’t make me put ya in time out.”
I stilled at the sound of Jack’s teasing Irish lilt. As soon as he loosened his grip on me, I slipped out from his grasp and shot him a look of pure contempt, to which Jack merely chuckled, inciting my anger even more.
I decided it might be worth it to take my anger out on a seasoned member of the Royal Guard. I knew Jack wouldn’t pull his punches, wouldn’t give me an inch, and it would quite possibly give me a much-needed release if I bled.
“I can see the ole wheels turning in your head, kiddo, and I’m not for sparing with ye this night. Get your ass back to the apartment. Atticus is waiting there for you with someone for dinner.”
I balked at his tone, his chastising of me, and dug my heels in, silently standing my ground.
Jack’s expression darkened. “Take a walk, Ryan,” he said in a tone I’d never heard from him before—one that said I’d pushed too far and embarrassed myself. “I mean it. Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder, girl.”
I wanted to rage at him, the closest thing I had to family, but the frosty demeanor I’d spent years building up slowly slipped back into place. I clenched my jaw and glared at Nickolai, putting the blame on him.
Brushing past Jack, I took off at a jog, ignoring the sound of my name on Nickolai’s lips. I made it to the wall and use the momentum of my pace to jump up and swing myself over the wall, landing on the opposite side with a feline grace. My emotions a tornado inside me, I jogged the rest of the way to the apartment complex and, once inside, eagerly pressed the button that would take me to the penthouse.
My foot tapped an angry rhythm as I waited, and I all but jumped into the elevator when it arrived. As soon as it reached the penthouse, I stalked forward, kicked off my Chucks, and headed straight into the living area.
Atticus rose to greet me, amusement all over his features as he chortled, “Who had the audacity to piss you off, Ryan?”
“At the moment, it’s the entire race of male vampires, so I’d keep the smart remarks to myself if I was you, Atty.”
The other vampire only laughed harder, then pointed to the bedroom. I glanced inside to see a young woman sitting on the bed, her head bent and hands clasped in prayer. She lifted her head as I approached, smiling widely as she greeted me.
“Hello, Ryan.”
“Hey Simone.”
The girl brushed her hair to the side and craned her neck, revealing the side of her neck that bore scars from offering her blood on many an occasion. I always felt guilty when I laid eyes on the scars of the Children of Eve, wishing their lives were not all about keeping us vampires alive. Simone never complained, though; her ancestors before her were Children of Eve, and her own descendants would continue to be. Well… if we managed to prevent our extinction.
“It is my pleasure to serve you,” she said quietly.
Hunger punched my gut, and my fangs were already elongated from my aggression. I flopped down on the bed and murmured, “Thank you for your gift.”
Wrapping my hand around the curve of her neck, I tilted her head to give me better access. I hovered my mouth over her skin, felt her tense at the feel of my breath on her throat, and waited for Simone to shiver in anticipation. When her scent become mingled with a hint of fear, I struck.
I sank my fangs into her neck, drinking deeply as I tightened my grip. The roar of my pulse and Simone’s pulse forced a moan from my lips as I swallowed another mouthful of delicious blood. I could feel the warm liquid work its way down my throat, relishing the slight burn it left at the back of my throat.
I felt Simone tense and the rage in me subside slightly, the beast temporarily sated, so I reluctantly, carefully, pulled my fangs from Simone’s neck and licked at the wounds to seal them off. Simone sighed in bliss, and as my fangs ascended, I reached around her, grabbed the glass of juice I’d noticed on the bedside table, and held it out to her. Her hands were a little shaky, so I held the glass to Simone’s lips, and she opened her eyes and sipped the juice slowly.
When she could hold the glass herself, I slipped off the bed and allowed her the time to collect herself, exiting the bedroom and ignoring the three va
mpires who now sat in the living room. Locking myself in the bathroom, I tossed water over my face, snagged a toothbrush—probably Nickolai’s—and brushed my teeth so my breath wouldn’t smell of blood.
Once I’d composed myself, I walked out of the bathroom to a roomful of silence. Ignoring the three of them, I swirled the coffee that was in the pot on the counter, filling a mug before I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and washed it under the tap.
Taking a bite of the apple, I grabbed my mug and went to sit in front of the window, sliding down the wall and stretching my legs out before me, wiggling my toes. Looking out to the night sky, I sipped my coffee, ignoring the boys.
After a few minutes, Jack rose from his seat and joined me, sliding down the opposite wall so our toes almost touched, his legs longer than mine by many an inch. I continued my intense scrutiny of the world outside until Jack sighed.
“By Jaysus, it seems not only have you gotten your mother’s stubbornness, but you’ve also inherited Tristan’s bullheadedness.”
I remained quiet, his words like a knife in my chest. Draining the last of my coffee, I polished off my apple and placed the core into the cup. Jack nudged my foot with his, and I pulled my knees to my chest.
“What do you want me to say, Jack? You spoke to me like I was a child out there. I don’t need you to parent me. I haven’t had a parent since I was seven years old, and I don’t need one now.”
My words were sad as I spoke them, even if they were Eve’s honest truth.
Jack frowned. “I didn’t mean to chastise you, kiddo. I just didn’t want you to bruise the prince’s ego. You would have handed him his ass on a plate and then done it again just to prove a point.”
I shrugged, glancing out the window again as Jack sighed and got to his feet, muttering about how he’d never understand women. I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against the cold glass, hiding a smile. After another minute or two, I heard Atticus escort Simone out, returning a short time later with delicious-smelling Chinese takeout that made my stomach rumble.
Laughter rang out in the room as the boys settled in to play cards and drink beer. I got up from my self-imposed naughty step, wondering who had dished up the plate of salt-and-pepper chicken for me on the counter, and perched myself on a stool by the counter as I ate.
When Jack got up to grab another beer, I cleared my throat and held out my hand for one. After a brief hesitation and a growl, Jack opened the bottle and handed it to me, shaking his head as I drained half the bottle in one gulp. Finding his seat again, I realized how tired I was—not sleepy, just bone weary.
“Hey, Ryan, come play a hand with us.”
“No thanks. I’d hate to take your money from you, St. Clair. The last time I played cards, I made a grown vampire cry.”
“My brother deserved it, the twerp, if he thought it advisable to squander his monthly salary on a stupid bet.”
I took another sip of my beer and then shrugged. “I mean, he was playing for glory. What he wanted if he’d won would’ve made him the big man on campus.”
“And what”—Nickolai said, his tone low and dangerous— “did he want if you lost?”
I thought about not answering, about shying away from Nickolai’s and possibly Jack’s reactions. Atticus had been there that night, when I’d taken ten grand off his brother, and now Edison hated me even more than he had before. This had been years ago, one night I’d been forced to interact with both my classmates and the Heathers. I’d never been asked again.
“If I won,” I began slowly, resting my hands in my lap, having set my empty plate down, “I got the money. But Edison wanted to up the stakes, and the rest egged him on. So, he bet me his pocket money for one night with the Ice Queen. One night to see if I could be thawed.”
Jack let loose a string of curse words as Nickolai’s face went deathly still. He turned to face Atticus. “And you let her bet herself for money?”
Atticus held his future king’s gaze. “This is Ryan we’re talking about—nobody tells her what to do. Plus, Tristan was the biggest card shark in the Royal Guard. I knew the apple wouldn’t fall far from the tree. She wasn’t going to lose.”
Nickolai got to his feet and glared at me. “How could you put yourself on the line like that? How could you treat yourself like you matter less than goddamn Edison St. Clair?”
“Because I don’t. I don’t matter. You all keep telling me to live, to stop acting like I died with my parents, but I did die that day. The only reason I’m still breathing is because I promised my father I’d go on even if they didn’t. If not for that promise, I’d have walked into the sun long ago.”
The men all stared at me, speechless. My heart hammered in my chest as I clasped a hand over my mouth, wondering what sorcery had made me voice my most secret thoughts.
Pushing off the counter, I slipped my feet into my trainers and rushed to the elevator. Not a single soul moved to stop me, and the last thing I saw as the doors to the elevator closed was a look of pure anguish on Nickolai’s face.
10
I walked around forever, the gloominess of the night my faithful companion as I methodically put one foot in front of the other, blocking out the sounds around me by blaring music in my ears. Streetlights illuminated the pathway for me after the moon disappeared behind clouds, and I walked a loop of the college to make sure the rogue wasn’t wandering around.
As Little Mix’s “Salute” ended and a classic-rock song came on, I wondered how long I could keep going, how long I could withhold myself from those around me now that I was forced into the human world. I’d thought being as detached as I felt would make me a perfect asset to the crown. After all, I had nothing to lose and would lay down my life to protect them. Attachments would only make doing that harder… right?
My mind drifted back to a conversation I’d overheard between my parents. They were worried I was too focused on my swordsmanship and not becoming as ladylike as my peers. My mother had scoffed, the sound so melodic, so enticing, that my father had smiled.
“Ryan wasn’t born to be soft and quiet,” she’d said. “She was born to make the world shatter and shake at her fingertips. Our daughter will one day change the world.”
But Imogen Callan had been wrong, so utterly wrong. I would not change the world. The world had upended, and I was a shell of a vampire. Despite my earlier statement, I wasn’t sure I actually wanted to die; I just wasn’t altogether certain I wanted to live, either.
Coming upon a bridge connecting the city to the college, I perched myself on the ledge, watching the waters of the River Lee rage beneath my feet. I envied the waters, free to come and go as they pleased, be as fierce or as unassuming as they wanted. I popped an earbud out and listened to the roar, the water lapping over the edges of the bank as the tide rose, morning no more than an hour or two away.
Sometimes, on the darkest of days, when my emotions were too much for me to bear, I wondered who I would have been if my parents had survived. Would I have been happy? Would I still have been adamant on joining the Royal Guard? Would Nickolai and I still have been best friends? I pictured that Ryan, smiling and laughing at family dinners, at royal gatherings, on birthdays and Christmases.
My chest tightened, and a lump in my throat made it hard to swallow. My grip on the railing hardened, the metal groaning under the strain of my strength. I relaxed my grasp, blinking away tears as I blew out a breath.
Upon inhaling, my spine straightened as I caught a scent on the wind. Not making any sudden movements, I glanced toward the end of the bridge to see the rogue standing in a veil of shadows, the red tinge of his eyes visible as he watched me with primal hunger. He was far enough away to get a head start if he ran, his legs much longer than mine, so, I decided to play his game and see if I could unnerve him—enough, anyway, to make a mistake.
“Did they send the pretty girl out here to distract me before they pounce?”
He spoke with a foreign accent, and his voice sounded like gravel, as i
f his throat had been injured somehow. I searched my memory but could not recall any mention of a rogue with such an affliction.
I shrugged. “Would you believe me if I said I was alone?”
“It is not the nature of male vampires to leave such a prize to venture out by herself.”
I laughed loudly, plucking the other bud from my ear as I noted the turn of phrases he used. His speech was proper, almost courtly. He seemed startled by my laughter, which made me smile.
“If you knew anything about me, you’d know there are no vampires who consider me a prize. I’m sarcastic, a little psycho, messy, and I talk back. I snore in my sleep and curse like a sailor. I’m far from a prize.”
The rogue angled his head, his shadow casting shapes on the wooden bridge as he considered me. “Then they do not deserve you. They do not see the potential in you. I see it and would treat you like the queen you are. Come with me, and we shall bathe in blood. I will make you a queen among vampires. We will not die out like those who remain chained to past notions.”
I shrugged my shoulders again, keeping my heartbeat steady so as not to give myself away to this monster. Swinging my legs back around, I stood on the bridge opposite him and smiled. “As tempting as that sounds, I have no desire to become queen of anything. I do, however, want to separate your head from your shoulders and present it to my queen. Now be a good little rogue and get on your knees so we can do this cleanly. I’d hate to get blood on my clothes.”
The rogue hissed, taking a step toward me but halting as he inhaled my scent as if he was suddenly struck by how good I smelled. I reached around my back to grasp the handles of my sai as the rogue inched backward, all bravado seemingly gone as morning began to sneak through the clouds. I knew the rogue would bolt soon, but I’d gained some valuable knowledge during our conversation.
