by Nora Ash
“Countless. More still that have been lost to the ages.” Warin touched her hair, pushing it away from her pretty face. “Do you wish to see them, Thea?”
“Oh, yes!” She seemed to realize what he was truly asking then, and bit her lip. Her teeth made small indents into the soft flesh. Warin found it impossible to look away. “I mean… I…”
“I can show you the world, Thea, if that is what you wish. I can show you wonders that will make this bridge look like nothing but a child’s stick figurine.” He spoke urgently, willing her to understand that he could give her so much more than what he had taken from her. “I can introduce you to kings and queens—I will make you a queen, if you so desire.”
She looked at him, a frown drawing her eyebrows in. “You speak as if it is so easy to bend the world to your will.”
“It is.” There was no point in lying—not to her. Even if his world scared her, he wouldn’t hide the truth from her. Couldn’t. “You have seen what I can do. You have seen my strength. Whatever you wish, I will give to you. If you follow me willingly.”
He half expected her to screech at him, and call him a monster now that he had reminded her what he was capable of. But she only shook her head and looked back at the bridge. “What are the wonders of the world, and the people in it, if they are forced to surrender to my whims? You speak of strength, power, but it sounds so… lonely.”
He stared at her in silence as London’s inhabitants went about their nighttime errands. The last merchants were shouting from the nearby market, hawking their wares before they would return to their homes.
“I prefer solitude,” he said, though he didn’t know why. She hadn’t asked.
Thea smiled, a soft curve to her lips he hadn’t seen before. “No, you don’t. You might be a creature of the night, but you crave companionship as much as any human. Why else travel with your brother? Why capture me?”
“You are different,” he said, an irritated growl to his voice that made her flinch. He hadn’t meant to scare her, but her words unsettled him. He was nothing like the humans surrounding them in this overcrowded city, and nothing at all like the people whose blood he feasted on when the beast in his chest demanded sustenance. “Aleric is different.”
“Can… can we go look at the market?” she asked, not challenging him, but not agreeing, either. When he went to wrap his arm around her midriff, she tensed, and he hated himself for having broken the small moment’s truce between them. For a few minutes, they had been equal. Not master and captive. Vampire and human.
He brought her to the market that, even though the busiest time had long since past, still bustled with people and merchants.
Thea looked at it all with those emerald eyes wide open in awe, smelled spices from faraway lands and gasped at the beauty of jewelry, woodcarvings and tapestries alike. When she admired a comb adorned with shimmering pearls longer than the other trinkets, he purchased it for her with some of the robbers’ coins and was rewarded with a shy smile in gratitude.
Aleric was right when he’d insisted they needed to come here. Thea was not human. But she was also not… not human. She smelled human, she felt human… she bled like a human. He had to learn more about her, if for no other reason than it would tell him how to best care for her.
And for how many years she would be with him before she aged and died.
A shudder rippled through him and straight to his marrow at the mere thought. Thea looked up at him, likely having felt him shiver, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and touching her cheek.
Soft. Smooth. Warm. He relished the contact with her skin until she pulled away with a jerk, as if startled she’d let him touch her. The deep blush spreading from her chest up her neck to cover her pretty face made his fangs ache.
She felt it too. He knew she felt that painful tug of longing behind the ribs too, had known since she let him care for her after her run-in with the robbers. She hadn’t said it, of course—she didn’t trust him enough for that—but he saw it in her eyes. That confused, pained, deep yearning.
And Warin had sworn to himself he wouldn’t taste her before she invited him. Not her blood, nor the sweet heat between her thighs. As much as he ached for her, the thought of forcing her was too sickening. So, he would have to gain her trust, little by little, until finally, one day… she would give herself to him. Willingly.
* * *
The Night Lord of London spent his nights holding court deep in the catacombs of the most pompous church the city had to offer. If the parish knew what damned creatures haunted their sacred place during the night, they would likely burn it to the ground.
It wasn’t an unusual setup for a vampire Lord—the splendor foisted upon a god’s house, paired with the bitter irony that the most unholy creatures defiled these pitiful humans’ sacred halls, was too tempting to resist.
It was never difficult to find an Ancient’s residence. They allowed their power to light up the night like a beacon, letting every vampire in their territory know that these lands were ruled by someone far more powerful than the human king on his gilded throne.
The Ancient ruling the night in these parts was no different. Warin felt his presence grate against his own power, challenging the beast within. He suppressed it with a force of will as they descended into the bowels of the church. Even he was no match for an Ancient—especially not one this strong.
He held Thea tighter, reassuring her as much as himself with their shared closeness. The pathways were narrow, stone flooring turning to dirt, and soon he had to release his hold on her so she could move behind him. Aleric took up the rear, his unusual quietude betraying his unease as well.
“You wish to see the Lord?” a sultry voice asked. A tall, beautiful woman stepped out from the shadows as they rounded a corner. She was wearing a deep red, silken dress, and jewels sparkled from around her neck and wrists. “State your name and your purpose, young ones.”
Warin resisted the urge to growl at her haughty tone. She was older than them—he would estimate four hundred years or so—but he had not been called a youngling for two centuries. “Warin and Aleric Waldlitch. We have come to ask your Lord for advice.”
“Advice?” A small, joyless smile touched her lips. “Mayhap the Lord will be in the mood to part with some wisdom tonight. It has been a while since outlanders came to our town with the promise of intrigue.” She tipped her head to look at Thea over his shoulder. “And you bring a present. How very thoughtful. Does she do anything? Sing? Dance?”
Warin’s fangs descended without his consent. “She is mine!” he snarled, all thoughts of keeping his temper in check in this pit of treachery vanishing at the mere thought of these strangers touching his human.
“Oh. Another pet. How tedious,” the woman said, neither her tone nor her voice changing despite the obvious threat emanating off Warin in thick waves. “I suppose we shall hope your request for our Lord will prove amusement enough. The nights run long when Zet holds court.” She turned and walked ahead of them down the narrow pathway, leaving them to follow until a stone door blocked their way.
Once they caught up, she rapped her knuckles against the door in a light rhythm.
The hinges creaked with effort as the heavy door swung open, finally revealing the Lord of London’s domicile.
The crypt was large, with a domed ceiling and several vampires scattered around the edges. Some were feeding, the sounds of human moans echoing around the sarcophagi, limp bodies and feasting vampires illuminated by torches.
And in the center of it all, the Ancient sat on the lid of a stone sarcophagus, a bored look on his deceptively youthful face.
“Verawein, you bring guests?” His voice rang through the room, stilling all within. Even the feeding vampires looked up at their Lord’s voice.
“They come to ask for your wisdom, my lord,” their guide said as she sashayed across the floor to stand by his side.
“Curious.” He tilted his head as he took them in. Wa
rin had to restrain himself from stepping to the side to shield Thea from his golden eyes as they roamed over her form, lingering for just a second at her neck. “It has been near on a month since we last had visitors from outside the territory. Come. Break up this tedious night for us and present your errand.”
Warin walked forward, keeping a tight grip on Thea. He could hear her trying to swallow her whimpers and smell her fear as they passed by the humans who’d been fed upon, and pride swelled in his chest that she kept on walking. Most humans who hadn’t been Compelled would have lost composure this deep into a vampire nest, but not his Thea. Not while he was with her.
“And what have we here?” Zet’s nostrils flared when they stopped in front of him, Thea’s scent undoubtedly hitting him fully. The Ancient leaned forward from his perch and reached out a hand toward her, his eyes narrowing. “Come here, child.”
Thea whimpered in response and pressed closer to Warin, wide eyes glued to the Ancient.
Zet arched an eyebrow and looked at Warin. “If I am not mistaken, either you enjoy the scent of your pet’s terror and have Compelled her to complete obedience despite awareness—an impressive feat for one so young as you—or… this human remains in control of her mind?”
“This is why we have sought your advice, my lord,” Warin said. He fought back the urge to grab Thea and run until this suffocating catacomb and the powerful Ancient residing within was nothing but a faint memory, instead releasing his hold on her. “My human does not take to Compulsion.”
An audible gasp from the court echoed throughout the room. Warin ignored them all and gently nudged Thea forward, despite her obvious reluctance. He had taken her into the bowels of London’s night to learn what this Ancient might know for her sake, and for his own. He had to see it through. “She smells human, she feels human… but something about her isn’t. I brought her here in hopes that your wisdom could shed light on what she is.”
“What are you talking about? Of course I am human!” Thea hissed over her shoulder.
“How very curious.” The Ancient’s golden eyes returned to the young woman now standing directly in front of him. He curved his finger at her in a come-hither movement, full lips rising up in a small smile. “And brave enough to talk back to her Master, even when she reeks of fear. Come here, girl. Let me have a look at you.”
Slowly, shooting Warin a pleading look, she walked the final few steps until she was within reach of the raven-haired Ancient.
He wrapped his hand around her jaw, and she shuddered at the contact, but didn’t pull away. Though she was trembling, she returned his unblinking gaze.
“Take off your clothes, little one,” Zet purred, his voice silken persuasion and molten heat. The strength of his Compulsion was nearly tangible, even from Warin’s distance.
“What? No!” Thea jerked back from Zet’s grip, crossing her arms over her chest.
The look of astonishment on the Ancient’s face was quickly wiped away by sheer intrigue. He jumped off his makeshift throne to circle the still-trembling woman, eyes dark and predatory. Warin clenched his fists until his nails drew blood from his palms to keep from launching himself in between them and push the powerful being away from her.
“You smell human,” Zet said, drawing in a deep breath. “You look human.”
“I am human!” she said. “Please, I don’t know what this is about.”
“It’s about you being a very, very interesting young lady.” The purr was back in Zet’s voice. “Is there anything else you have noticed about her?” The last part was directed at Warin, though Zet’s eyes still didn’t leave her. “She speaks the language of my territory. Where did you find her?”
“Far north, in a village on the coast. Well outside your border, my lord.” Warin narrowed his eyes at the Ancient’s back. Even someone with his power had to abide by their ancient laws. He would not be able to take Thea away by any obvious means, but his interest in her was unsettling Warin’s beast.
“Her heart calls to me. She was mine from the moment I saw her, and she will be mine until the day she dies.”
“Her heart calls to you?” Zet ignored his subtle claim, finally turning around to look at Warin. “How?”
“It…” Warin frowned, trying to find the words to describe what had him so bound to this woman. “It is like she ties me to the world,” he said slowly. “When I saw her, I knew she was supposed to be mine. Her heartbeat is a song, pulling on me. Calling.”
Zet stared at him for two long, silent seconds. Then he snapped his fingers and turned to face the gathered vampires. “I am retiring for the night. Go, enjoy my town. You are all much too young to waste away in this crypt night after night.”
From the looks his court shot at each other, this was not usual behavior from their lord, but it only took them seconds to obey this unexpected but obviously welcome order. Within moments, there were only two half-dead humans and Verawein left in the room, besides the Ancient and themselves.
Warin bowed his head and reached for Thea. “I thank you for your time, my lord. We will be on our way.”
“Not so hasty, young one.” Zet gave him a small smile before he turned to the female vampire by his side. “My dear, my orders include you too. I wish to be alone with our guests.”
“But my lord—“
Zet lifted two fingers, silencing her with an arched eyebrow. Meekly, she bowed her head. “Yes, my lord.”
He watched her as she left, closing the heavy stone door behind her. Once her footfalls could no longer be heard, Zet turned to the farthest, darkest corner of the crypt. “Come. There is someone I would like you to meet.”
Warin exchanged a glance with Aleric before he put a hand on Thea’s lower back and followed the Ancient.
Zet pushed a heavy stone sarcophagus aside that would have caused even Warin trouble, revealing a jagged hole behind it. And, just as he slipped through it, the power radiating off him like a lighthouse in the night dampened. Warin could still feel his strength, but he was no longer projecting it outward as he had been. Apparently, the Lord wasn’t interested in attracting any of his loyal subjects’ attention for whatever it was he planned to show them.
Chapter 8
Warin
Zet led them through the narrow tunnel until it opened up into the basement of what turned out to be the cellar of a busy inn. It was hidden behind a false bit of wall.
“I’ve Compelled the innkeeper and the maids,” Zet explained as they made their way through rowdy drunks and busty barmaids that had Aleric sending their exposed necks longing looks. “They never ask questions about the room I rent here, nor its occupant.”
“And who’s the occupant?” Aleric asked. A glare from Warin made him tack on, “My lord?”
“You’ll see,” Zet said. “Patience is a virtue, young one.”
Aleric made a rude noise. “Sorry, my lord, I just think it’s pretty fucking weird how you dismissed your entire court to take two strangers through your secret getaway tunnel to meet some mysterious inn-dweller. I’d like to know what we’re getting into.”
“Aleric!” Warin snapped, but Zet waved him off, an amused smile playing across his full lips.
“I like your fearlessness, youngling,” was all he said before he turned back around and led them up the stairs to the rooms above.
They all followed, Thea clinging to Warin’s arm as he shot daggers at his brother. Aleric pretended not to notice.
The room the Ancient rented was located at the very end of the hall, as far away from prying eyes as possible. He pulled a chain over his head that his shirt had hidden from view and thrust the key attached to it into the lock, letting it slide open. It was dark inside, but the faint smell of magic drifting out was unmistakable.
Warin narrowed his eyes at the Ancient. “It would appear my brother was correct in his brash assumptions. What is this?”
“Not what it seems, I promise you that.” Zet pointed a single finger at Thea. “If you wish to learn what s
he truly is, the answer lies in here. Do you care enough about your human to push aside your prejudice, young warrior?”
“Warin,” Aleric warned. He put his hand on Warin’s shoulder in a silent plea for caution. He was right—this Ancient required caution, to be sure. No vampire would ever have anything to do with magic of the sort this room smelled of without nefarious motivations.
But…
Warin looked down at Thea. He’d come this far.
Steeling himself, he let go of her and stepped inside the room, ensuring that whatever—or whoever—was inside, they wouldn’t be able to get to her without going through him first.
A woman lay curled up on the bed in the dark. She was breathing steadily. The stench of magic oozed from her.
“A witch!” Aleric hissed behind him. The snick of his fangs’ descent sang through the air.
The sound seemed to stir the woman. She murmured sluggishly, as if drugged, pushing at the covers on the bed to sit upright. She waved her hand with a lax movement and the candles on the window ledge and on the desk lit up.
Thea gasped behind him.
“Zet,” the witch murmured, seemingly blind to anyone but the dark-haired vampire. “I thirst.”
“I know, my dove.” The Ancient walked to the bed and gracefully sank down next to her. He brushed a hand through her messy hair and touched her chin with a finger. Then he extended his fangs and brought the same finger to one sharp point, piercing his skin. A crimson drop of ancient blood pearled on his fingertip. He brought it to the witch’s lips and smiled wryly when she licked it off with fevered desperation. When she tried to clasp onto his wrist to suck at his finger, he gave her a sharp look that had her withdrawing with a jerk.
Warin stared at the witch, whose lips were still red from the single drop of blood.
There were many rules in their society, created to ensure the survival of their kind. The first, the most important among them, was to never, ever, let a witch drink vampire blood.
