by Ali Winters
“Join the others and wait for me.” I dismiss him with a wave of my hand and kneel down next to the young woman.
She flinches.
“Don’t worry,” I croon, infusing a light compulsion into the words—just enough to settle her nerves—and offer her my hand. Reluctantly, she places her cold fingers in my grasp. “Be at ease. This will not hurt.”
I help her to sit up. Pushing her hair from her shoulder, I examine the over-zealous bite marks that are already bruising her flesh. I place my palm over the wound still oozing blood.
The girl stares blankly ahead, her mind disconnected from her body so she doesn’t feel the pain of healing. I close my eyes and push my power through my hand and into her.
When I’m finished, I remove my hand and appraise her. The color returns to her cheeks. “There, you are all better.”
She blinks as if waking up. Gingerly, she reaches up and touches the spot where the bite marks had been. Her eyes widen.
“T-thank you,” she stammers and throws her arms around my neck in an embrace that nearly knocks me over. She withdraws almost as quick. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
I place a hand on the top of her head and laugh. “It’s all right.”
Relief settles over me. Victor’s actions tonight have not made her fear me. But I still cannot allow them to remember the fear they felt.
Turning to the other girl, I gesture for her to join us. She hesitates, but one look at her friend and she is up walking on shaky legs. She kneels down next to us and I repeat the healing process on her wounds.
After using my power to heal two mortals, I will need to feed again, sooner than planned. But I can manage for another week or two.
I swallow the guilt prickling at my conscience. Altering their minds… taking away their will, their thoughts, histories, experiences, their opinions—it’s never sat well with me.
“We had a wonderful time tonight,” I say, infusing power into my voice.
Their eyes widen, pupils growing large until they nearly swallow up the entirety of their eyes.
“Thank you, ladies, for being so patient, and I do hope that you will forgive me for not being as neat as I should have.” I place a palm of my hand on each of their cheeks. More power flows through me, sending them images of the night and erasing the fear and pain they experienced. “Take a few days to rest and eat well.”
They nod in unison.
My guilt is only slightly assuaged by the fact that this will be better for them in the end. And they were not seriously injured, more frightened by the lack of care Victor bestowed upon them.
“Now go, return home and get cleaned up,” I say.
Again, they nod and rise as one, then walk from the field. If nothing else, they are alive.
Rising to my feet, I clench my fists at my sides. There is a young vampire who is in need of being taught a few lessons.
I race to the far end of town where the others await me.
Once Victor is within my sights, I speed up and slam into him. We land on the ground. I crouch over him, my hand wrapped around his throat. I bare my fangs and lower my face close to his.
“You and I are about to have a little chat.”
Chapter Twelve
Clara
We arrive at the party in time for the last three carriages to pull up outside. Murmuring filters down the hall, the voices mixing with the soft lull of the string quartet.
Kathrine beams as she leans in close to whisper, “It looks like I will be fashionably late to my own party!”
I don’t understand the point. Why would anyone want to be late? But if it makes her happy, then it makes me happy. She was always more attuned to social nuances, expectations, and other such things.
Kathrine hooks an arm through mine and pulls me along with her to the room where everyone awaits. When we near the threshold, she releases me and pushes me forward. I stumble a few steps before entering without her.
One or two people look my way, only sparing me a passing glance before they turn away. I am not the face they want to see.
There are several people I recognize here. Many whom I have helped myself to their coin a time or two. Unsurprisingly they all seem to be doing well.
A moment later, a few heads turn. Murmurs fill the room. Kitty strides in, smiling and beaming at the crowd. She pauses to greet everyone she passes.
I feel like a fish out of water. Though Kathrine looks as if she was born to this life.
Abraham crosses the room in a few strides and takes her hands, leading her back to where he was standing moments before. The two of them laugh and talk excitedly with another couple, a few years older.
I keep close to the wall, taking in the throng of people milling about. There are older couples and younger, and one group of girls standing in a cluster, whispering as they look at a nearby group of young men close by.
The room is similar to the music room at Alaric’s manor, though it is smaller and brighter. Instead of dark mahogany and crimson, the room is decorated in creams and golds with green accents.
Alaric… I can’t seem to stop thinking about his name… comparing everything I see or experience to my month and a half in Windbury. Even on the drive here, I couldn’t stop thinking his name—mostly cursing him for not instructing the driver to stop at an inn for the night.
But since arriving, how many times have I thought of him? It hasn’t even been a full day yet.
I need to stop. That is no longer my life. I am no longer beholden or indebted to him. He is no longer in my life and—demons take that sickening twinge that stabs at my heart—just thinking about the finality of our inadequate goodbye.
I blow out a breath and shake away the things that threaten to take me away from this moment, away from Kitty. Right now isn’t the time for thoughts that need long, quiet hours to sort through. This is my sister’s engagement party. She is the reason I am here, the reason I was able to return to Littlemire.
Attempting to be more social, I search the faces near me for someone who looks amiable.
A familiar laugh breaks through the steady din of voices. The warmth of the deep timbre stops me dead in my tracks, overwhelming me with a wave of memories.
It can’t be. I’m imagining things. Slowly, I turn my head and look over my shoulder.
The blood drains from my face. Xander stands near the entrance of the room with a bright-eyed blonde woman on his arm. She’s not his sister—he is one of four boys… Perhaps a cousin then? It’s hard to tell from this distance, but she is several years younger.
She responds to something he says, her voice sweet and delicate is followed by her bell like laughter.
I hadn’t expected to see him here, let alone with a woman on his arm.
My pulse thunders in my veins and I want to hide. This is not how I planned to see him for the first time. I’m not ready to face him yet. But Xander’s eye snags on mine before I can look away. His smile slips a fraction before reforming, broader this time, as confusion transforms to recognition and then to surprise.
He moves in my direction and I take a step back. This is not how I wanted our first meeting to go after all this time. It’s far too crowded.
I feel like a caged animal… the need to get away is overpowering. But then the woman points to another part of the room, tugging on his arm until he follows.
I blow out a breath, relieved.
If I thought for half a second that I could sneak away and hide for the rest of the night without Kathrine noticing, I would. So much has changed in the last two days.
Surrounded by people I don’t know, I feel like I'm standing in the eye of a storm. There's too much happening at once, and I'm unable to handle any part of it without being dragged into the maelstrom. All I can do is wait for it to die down so I can breathe again.
I skirt the edge of the room, keeping an eye on Xander as I move. He has managed to separate himself from those he arrived with, and as I move deeper into the room, he ma
kes his way toward me.
When I’m only a few feet away from a long table with filled glasses of various colored liquids, two girls step into my path. Somehow, I just barely avoid running into them. They wear pastel gowns, one a creamy, butter yellow, the other a summer sky blue. Their hairstyles match—pinned up with short cascades of curls falling over opposite shoulders.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” says the one on the left.
“Isn’t this party fantastic?” the other gushes. “Hugo and Mina Morgan have spared no expense!”
“I am Tessa Fontaine, and this is my sister, Malory,” the one in yellow says.
I peek around them, looking for Xander, but I can’t see through the crowd.
“I don’t believe we’ve seen you at one of these parties before,” Malory says. “Are you from Durford?”
Their chatter draws my attention back to them. I have never had to interact with others in such a formal situation. What little I know about to act in these situations, I've learned in the time I was with Alaric—and most of that was in the last week.
I plaster a practiced smile across my mouth and say, “No, I’m Kathrine’s sister, Clara Valmont.”
The blood drains from their pale faces, making them look ill. Their eyes dart to my neck before returning to my face. It is not the first time people have stared at that particular patch of skin since I’ve entered this room, but none were quite so obvious.
“Oh… oh! I’m—” Malory starts.
“We were on our way to get refreshments,” Tessa interrupts. “You’ll excuse us. We will see you around.” She takes her slack-jawed sister by the arm and practically drags her into the crowd—away from the drinks.
That was… peculiar.
I look around, meeting anyone’s gaze I can manage to catch—a few pause to meet my eye, but never for long. I don't blame them when they look for bite marks. I would too if I was in their shoes. But there is something else in the expressions that I can’t identify.
And right now, understanding what a room full of strangers think about me is the least important thing on my mind. I brush the strangeness aside and continue toward the back.
Making it to the table, I grab a flute filled with a bubbly golden drink and take a sip.
“It’s been a while,” Xander’s familiar voice croons at my side.
Tension tightens my shoulders. I take another sip from my glass, then turn to him—my nerves spike.
Xander is more handsome than I remember. His face is clean shaven and dressed as he is, he seems like a different person than the boy I’ve known for years. Of course, we have only ever spent time together in town and the surrounding areas. Never a formal occasion such as this.
His eyes go wide as he takes me in slowly from head to foot. “You look beautiful,” he says.
And just like that, the warmth and familiarity we’ve always had between us has returned. I don’t need to be flawless, and he doesn’t need to conform to expectations.
“Thank you.”
I feel at ease in his presence, but there is so much that remains unsaid. As though he has the exact same thought, our gazes travel to the woman he arrived with. I open my mouth to ask, but I don’t get the chance.
“There you are, Clara! I see you’ve found Xander.” Kathrine’s voice rings out behind me.
The short moment Xander and I shared is shattered.
Kathrine stops next to me, and seconds later, the woman who has been at Xander’s side all evening, joins us. With each passing second, her presence is more and more unnerving. I want to know who she is, but a part of me fears her innocent face and large doe eyes.
“Xander?” she asks, and even her voice is sweet. She links her arm in his and leans in. “Do you know this woman?”
Xander looks me in the eye. I will him to explain who we are to each other, to tell them our plans. But he remains silent.
Kathrine wraps her arms around my waist, resting her cheek on my shoulder. “They are old friends, they used to work near each other in the market.”
Xander still doesn’t speak. My brows crease. Why isn’t he telling them the truth? My pride stings at his refusal to acknowledge me—to acknowledge us. But then… I’m not speaking up either, and I hadn’t told Kathrine the truth when I had the opportunity.
“Oh!” the blonde exclaims, bouncing on her toes. “You’re the one who was taken by the vampire.” Then she scrunches up her face. “Everyone thought you were dead.”
I’m taken aback by her bluntness. I can’t blame anyone for assuming I would be dead that day or soon after. I would have assumed the same.
Kathrine releases me and moves so the two of them are close. They grasp each other’s hands and chatter about vampires and my assumed death.
I stand frozen, unsure of what I should do. I suppose this can’t be any easier for me than anyone else. After all, it is unheard of for someone who’s been claimed to return, especially unaccompanied by their vampire master.
Xander clears his throat quietly, drawing me out of my shock.
He jerks his head, motioning for me to find a way out of this crowded room. It seems I’m not the only one desperate to talk.
“It’s warm in here,” I announce a little too loud. “If you will excuse me, Kathrine, I need some air.”
No one responds. Kitty and the woman, who seems to be her friend, are too consumed in their conversation.
I take two steps before Kathrine’s words send a jolt through me, so sharp my vision blurs with the violent pulse of my heart.
“Can you believe it? First, you and Xander are married, and now I am to be married in less than a month!”
My mouth goes dry. I force myself to keep walking even though my legs shake with each step until I’m in the hall.
I look around desperately, searching for an empty room or some dark corner to hide in. Xander’s footfalls hurry after me, but I keep going.
Near the end of the hall is a dark room with the door ajar. No lights are lit from within, no fire burns in the hearth.
I push my way into the room, my breath coming out in short bursts.
Of course, he didn’t wait for me. They all thought I was dead… but I had sent him letters, how could he not know? My racing thoughts pound against my skull, and I massage my temples with my fingers.
The door clicks shut, cutting off the small amount of light from the hall. I drop my hands and look up. Xander stands in the shadows near the doorway. Only pale moonbeams filter in from the window, giving shape to his form.
For a long moment, the two of us face each other in heavy silence. There are so many unspoken words between us.
“You’re married?” I finally blurt. The words echo painfully off the walls.
Chapter Thirteen
Clara
“Clara,” Xander starts. He lifts both his hands and approaches cautiously. “It’s not what you think…”
Married… Xander is married. I can barely keep the thoughts and questions straight in my head.
“And what is it that I think?” I snap. “Because it seems rather simple. Either you’re married, or you’re not. There is nothing complicated about it.” He grimaces but says nothing as he inches closer. “Did you get married almost as soon as I was taken? Did you get my letters? Did you even know or care that I had been claimed?” My questions burst forth in a rush.
He stops in front of me and places his hands on my shoulders. I shrug him off, taking a step back.
“I got your letters,” he says quietly.
I lick my lips. I don’t want to know the answer, but I can’t stop myself from asking, “How long did you wait?”
Xander drops his gaze to the floor. Even in the low light I can see color fill his face.
“A few days,” he finally admits.
A few days… Not even a week, but days.
I had waited for him for years. Even if Alaric had never claimed me, our engagement would have been nearly a year off, if not more.
“
I wanted to wait…” he says, trying to close the distance between us once more. “But my parents pushed for it.”
I take another step back. “Demon shit,” I hiss. “All you had to do was read my letters to know I would return.”
Xander gives me a doleful expression. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“You always have a choice, Xander.” I turn my back to him and gaze out the window. The moon seems to look in, watching us. “You told me you could make your choice once all your brothers married… was that ever a possibility?”
“Once you were claimed, I didn’t see the point in fighting it any longer,” he says flatly.
My shoulders slump. I wait for the wave of hurt, for tears to well up… but they never come. Not even the prickle of emotions that precede them or the gut-twisting hurt of loss.
I am not angry or furious with him. There is nothing, at least nothing but disappointment directed at Xander.
My pride stings, and for the first time since I was eight years old, I don’t have a plan to work toward.
I only feel aimless.
Everything I thought I’ve always wanted has evaporated and ground to a halt. It’s strange, like running for miles only to stop suddenly at the edge of a precipice. Abrupt.
The truth hits me with an uncomfortable force. I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to have this conversation. I don’t even care if all of Xander’s promises had been childhood wishes or intentional lies. I feel nothing for the loss of the future we had planned.
I don’t know if I’m in shock or if I was so desperate to escape Father, I thought what I had with this boy was love.
It has to be shock because losing the one you love to someone else hurts—learning they never loved you is heartbreaking. People don’t agree to marry someone else if they're in love and have plans.
Xander circles around and wraps me up in his arms.
“You know I’ve only ever wanted you,” he says.
He trails a finger along my jaw then presses his mouth to mine. It takes my mind entirely too long to catch up to what’s happening. The kiss is awkward… and wrong. I push against his chest creating distance between us.
