by Kayleigh Sky
Asa gritted his teeth. Hopefully, the vamp would let Isaac off the hook. How often had the kid taken this abuse? Why was he willing to take it one more time instead of blaming Asa for being too much of an asshole to help him with the coffee?
A weary resolve took the light out of Isaac’s eyes. His jaw tightened, then he said, “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” Nalith snapped.
“I have to keep this job, okay?”
The intensity in Isaac’s voice startled Asa, as though more than a fear of hunger drove him.
“I don’t care. Give him the coffee and go.”
“Fuck you,” said Asa, stepping between Isaac and the vamp, his common sense pouring out of him like the pendulous coffee drops smacking the floor. “We don’t work for you. We work for the king. Justin is the only one who can fire us.”
The vamp leaned in. Another one, hanging off to the side, reclined against the counter and gave a slow smile. Asa ignored him.
“You can go too.”
“Fuck. You.”
Holy—
Nalith caught him off guard. So fast. He shot his arm out, gripped Asa’s throat, and dug his fingers in. Something crashed in back and swooped by the corner of his eye. Isaac latched onto the guy’s arm. “Don’t! Let go!”
Air burned in Asa’s lungs, and his eyes stung. He blinked, struggling to gasp, but nothing happened. The pain in his neck flared like a flame. Fuck, was he going to die here? Die before he had a chance to spit in the eye of the bastard who’d ruined him and bruise the creature’s mouth with his own teeth.
Fuck.
The vamp’s tattooed fangs swelled in his vision. Don’t… God don’t. Black-etched ivory, slick with saliva.
Voices thundered in his head.
“Let go, you asshole!”
“Let him go!”
“Enough!”
Air swept back into his lungs, searing hot. Nalith stepped back, and Asa’s knees gave out. Isaac’s arm around his waist held him up as he pressed close to Asa’s side. “Are you okay?”
His throat burned, but he nodded and said, “Yeah.”
The vampire who’d been watching with a smile straightened now, eyes narrowed, and stared at the vamp. “Whether you like it or not, Nalith, murdering humans is still against the king’s law.”
Nalith inhaled deeply, eyes slitted. He nodded at the other vampire. “Excuse my poor manners, Jaan.”
Jaan smiled. “Blood is no longer good for business.”
The other vampires tittered and returned to their coffees and games.
“Get back to the truck,” Nalith muttered.
Giving him a nudge, Isaac pushed Asa across the floor and out the door. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault,” Asa said, rubbing his throat as Isaac dragged him down the street.
Asa didn’t know where the weariness came from, but it swept over him like a warm wave. He fixed his stare at the ocean as they made their way back to the truck. The light sparkled on waves rolling in with the same heartless rhythm he’d clung to for years. Because it was safer to be heartless. Safer not to care.
“Be more careful,” he said.
“I know,” said Isaac, with a squeeze that felt more like a hug. “But we’ll be okay.”
He laughed. They’d just pissed off one of the king’s enforcers. Being okay was a fantasy with vampires roaming the world.
From where he stood waiting by the side of the truck, Jere gave him a slow frown, then said, “Get in.”
He sat through the return trip with the weight of vampire stares boring into the back of his neck.
13
The King’s Lunch
“Cobwebs are the bane of my existence,” Adalyn had once said.
Zev trusted his housekeeper. Maybe living cobweb free was a kingly thing, something to underpin his royal image. In the gloom of the underground cities, though, shadows hid more than they revealed. The few spiders Zev had come upon had dwelled near the surface—ghostly white things that had skittered into the dark at anyone’s approach. Now, spiders appeared everywhere, creeping out of cracks, crawling across the ceiling, gray, beige, black. Spindly, squat, furry legged.
Unseemly for a vampire to go wobbly over spiders, so he pretended he didn’t. And maybe fewer cobwebs meant fewer spiders, so he said nothing against Adalyn’s obsession with eradicating them.
Pausing on his bare feet in the middle of the floor, Zev gazed at the new servant as he swiped the gleaming, red-brown woodwork with a cloth, his shoulders stretching the green T-shirt he wore. As Zev watched, his cock swelled, and the hall filled with hot, muggy air. He took a breath, but it didn’t help. He was sweating and had to resist wiping his forehead. What was wrong with him? He ached like an aroused fourteen-year-old set off by the touch of a breeze hardly strong enough to stir a sprig of moon lace.
He dug his nails into his palms.
He was used to being alone. Used to clamping down on his feelings. No human would believe they were really free to choose him, so Zev only slept with other vampires. But his eyes had strayed too many times to fair-haired humans. And vampires carried too much intrigue with them. Too great a risk of being stabbed to death in his sleep. Eilelia had been a pleasant diversion, but she didn’t want to live alone, and he didn’t want to marry her.
Plus, the guy on the ladder was a stranger.
But his muscles rippled under the fabric of his shirt.
His hair looked colored, the fading dye giving it a two-toned, streaky appearance like wet and dry sand. He stood high on a ladder, arms overhead, drawing the cloth over the wood in long, sweeping motions. Would his hackles rise when he climbed down and saw Zev? And why not? To most humans, a vampire was no more than a bloodsucking monster. Certainly nothing as harmless as a lovesick king hiding an idiot boner, who used to play games under Celestine’s roof and celebrate birthdays and marriages. No, he’d treat Zev like a rabid dog and keep his distance.
But with Nalith… He’d gotten right into his face, as the humans say. Over one of the other servants. And this was Emek, the one Rune had told him about.
Are you dangerous? Are you mine?
A startled laugh pressed against Zev’s lips, but he bit it back. Where in the world had that come from? He dug his nails deeper into his palms.
But the swell of his heart scared him the most. The way it pushed against his ribs like a trapped thing.
Swallowing, he approached the bottom of the ladder. “Looks nice.”
The human jerked and twisted, and his foot—
“Jesus… Son of a—”
Zev gasped. The human arched in one direction and the ladder slid in the other. He fell, and Zev thrust out his arms. The human landed, shock-blown eyes on Zev’s face before he scrambled up, spun, and—
Zev’s mouth opened. He struggled for breath. Oh my God. Mine!
Asa?
Could it be? It couldn’t be.
“Who… who are you?” Zev stammered.
The human glowered. Gray eyes, but Zev had never seen the color of Asa’s eyes. The hair though. It was shaggy brown, dyed lighter. And his face was older and hard as stone.
The human closed his mouth, firmed his lips, and said, “My name is Emek.”
Emek. Emek the servant.
“Yes, of course. I—”
His voice faltered. He stared at the human while his heart tumbled into a cavern of emptiness that opened beneath him.
Asa.
Why wasn’t it Asa? He looked so much like him. Even to the curl at the corners of his mouth. No matter how good a vampire’s eyes though, dark wasn’t day, wasn’t even the thin milky glow seeping through the window at the end of the hall. He’d never gotten a good look at the human he’d met in secret. His imagination had formed what he wanted to see.
This wasn’t Asa.
Though his heart… ached. Longed.
Mine.
But Emek couldn’t be. He was a stranger. Not
Zev’s fated. Fair skinned and freckled, with a glowering gaze. A gaze that set alarm bells ringing in Zev’s skull.
The human stepped back, nostrils flaring. “What do you want?”
Zev straightened his spine. For fuck’s sake. He was a king. This was his house. “I’m sorry I startled you. My name is Zeveriah.”
The human blinked, swiped his mouth, and blew out a ragged breath. “You didn’t startle me. You almost killed me.”
Zev snorted. Emek’s voice was deep and throaty, but purple fingermarks marred his neck. Maybe he didn’t always sound like that.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
Emek’s eyes narrowed. “Why would a king want to talk to me? Are you going to fire me?”
“No. I’m having lunch brought to my rooms. Come eat with me.”
He’d meant it as a friendly invitation, but Emek’s gaze darkened.
“Lunch?”
Zev sighed. “It’s not code for anything else. It means lunch. I’m hungry. For food,” he added.
“I’m working.”
Zev took a breath and held it for a moment before releasing it with a smile that showed his fangs. The human lost color and a sick look came onto his face.
“I’m a mild king, really, but I have my limits. I am inviting you to lunch.”
For a moment, Emek didn’t move, then his chin bobbed a quick nod. His gaze stayed locked on Zev’s, and he didn’t pull it away. “Okay. I can eat.”
Zev laughed. “Good. Come with me.”
He made himself turn away from that stare. Made himself expose his back and endure the crawling sensation that went up his spine. Like spiders.
Poisonous spiders.
14
Something’s Fishy
Asa followed the strange creature through the empty halls to the south wing where he’d been gazing through the windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. But—
It couldn’t be him.
Asa was imagining things. The distant glow of lights years ago had pushed shadows across a face he’d only supposed was beautiful because all vampires were beautiful. Nothing set this one apart from all the others.
But his lungs inhaled a scent that teased at his memory. His fingers longed to tangle in the dark hair and hold the body close to him. Solid and hot blooded. Melting.
He pushed the hate, always banked and waiting, to the front of his brain.
This creature was a murderer.
If it’s him.
And a liar.
“What is your name?”
“Best you don’t know,” the creature had said.
To prevent Asa from following him?
Because he was a king?
But he wasn’t, not back then. Somebody else had been the king and his own kind had killed him. Then his son had stepped down. Or had Zeveriah stolen his throne? Betrayed him too?
The floor changed from cool marble to a runner-covered parquet. Asa stared at the vampire’s bare feet.
“Don’t you like shoes?”
The creature smiled over his shoulder. God, those lips.
“No,” he said.
Okay.
They turned down another short hall, and Zeveriah pushed open a door and stood aside. “Go on in. Our lunch is ready.”
“Why do you want to have lunch with me?”
The vampire cocked his head. “I told you. I want to talk to you. I fired Nalith, by the way.”
After letting that drop, the vampire stepped into the room, and Asa stared dumbly at the open door.
Fired him?
Fired a vampire over a human? What kind of vampire did that?
A devious one.
He followed Zeveriah into an airy, plainly decorated space. A wall of large, Georgian-style windows faced him, and a fire burned in a hearth that took up one end of the room. The pale, hickory floor gleamed, its center covered with a blue and gold Turkish rug. The walls were white over pale blue wainscoting. Two beige and cream club chairs straddled a table in front of the fireplace. A buffet table stood against the wall by the door. Bowls of fruit, several carafes, and sandwiches piled on a platter covered the surface.
“We have coffee, tomato soup, and cheese or roast beef sandwiches.”
Asa moved toward one of the chairs until the painting above the mantle stopped him mid step. The hair stood up on the back of his neck, and a strange feeling that he knew the subject of the painting swept over him. He tore his gaze away, twitched at the chill of the sweat on his skin, put a hand over his mouth, and swallowed bile.
The king stepped nearer, his frown furrowing his forehead. “Are you okay?” Concern had tightened his voice.
Asa ignored it and gestured to the painting. “Where is that?”
The king turned. “Nowhere anymore. It’s gone. Not as beautiful as Celestine, but I grew up there. Abbatine. It was built in the Golyth Cleft, which is like a valley here.”
The painting depicted a city that grew like stalagmites in a narrow gorge.
Stepping closer to the fire, Zeveriah reached up and pointed at one of the structures built into the valley wall. It looked as white as sandstone, tall and narrow. “That was our home.”
“How old were you when it happened?”
The king looked back. “The Upheaval? Nineteen. And you?”
“Eleven.”
Asa’s vampire had been twenty-five. He’d asked him one night. That had been six years after the Upheaval, so the king’s age fit, but… He couldn’t be the same vampire. What were the odds of them meeting again this way? It was almost as if…
As if this was supposed to happen.
“Where are your parents?”
“Alive. They live on an island off the coast. They’ve retired from the world really.”
Asa’s voice came out sharp as ice shards. “How nice for them.”
The vampire’s eyes narrowed. “They lost everything.”
Well, who hadn’t? But Asa didn’t ask that. He gritted his teeth, then said, “Mine are gone.”
The king winced. “There is a lot of hurt between our people, I know that. Please sit.”
Asa went around one of the chairs. Most of the wall space was taken up by bookshelves. A stand-alone bookcase sat in the center of the room, but this one was round with a flat top. He stood again.
“Do you play?”
Zeveriah followed the direction of Asa’s stare to the chess set on top of the bookshelf, and his eyes lit up. “Yes. Do you?”
Asa nodded. “Sometimes.”
“We’ll play one time.”
He frowned, eyes narrowing, but Zeveriah had gone to the buffet table. “Sure.”
“Cheese or beef?”
His mouth opened. He wanted to refuse, but why? For a moment, he’d forgotten what he was supposed to do. He’d been confused, waffling between desire and fury. But getting close to the king was his job, and for some reason, the vamp was making it easy for him.
Zeveriah glanced back. “Or both?”
Asa swallowed. “Yeah. Both is good.”
The vampire smiled, fixed him a plate, and poured him a cup of soup.
Asa moved closer to the chessboard. “You’re in the middle of a game.”
“It’s sad, but I play myself most often.”
“Why?”
What was this? A blushing vampire? Warm, rosy color bloomed on Zeveriah’s cheeks. “I’m pretty good. My cousin, Moss, plays me, but he only wins if I let him.”
Odd how that sounded sad instead of arrogant. Was he lonely? Bent under the weight of his fucking crown? Well, that wasn’t Asa’s problem. Seducing him was Asa’s problem. Holding him close. Pretending he was the right vampire. Begging him to explain what he had done. Then finding the necklaces and getting away, because Asa had no desire to die for these bloodthirsty bastards.
Asa focused on the board again, noting that black was doing a lousy job protecting its king. He picked up the white knight on e5 and moved it to g4.
The vamp raised an eyebrow, and
a smile twitched on his lips. He nodded at the chair. “Come eat. I’m starving.”
There was no sign of Synelix, but Asa didn’t expect it. Some vampires flaunted their desire—their need—to drink blood or the mixture that was like it, but others hid it like something shameful. But no vampire cared about a human’s opinion. Drinking blood was a birthright to them, so maybe the ones that hid it didn’t want to face outright what they had lost.
Was Synelix good? Did it hit the right spots on their tongues? In their bellies? Asa’s dad had said it was a perfect match.
He’d been wrong.
Asa’s belly soured. “Do you miss feeding from us?”
The king hovered over his sandwich before sticking a corner into his mouth and biting down. His face had hardened, and he chewed without speaking. Asa drank some of the soup out of the crockery mug Zeveriah had brought to the table. The king didn’t rush. He licked the corner of his mouth and stared at the sandwich, thick with thin slices of beef. Asa took a bite of his and chewed through the hot tang of horseradish.
“I miss my home. I miss what I thought my life was going to be. I miss my best friend. And yes, I miss blood. We harmed no one.”
Asa swallowed. Just let it go. But his jaw tightened. “No one?”
Zeveriah sighed. “We have criminals on both sides.” He ate more of his sandwich. “Moss has no clue what to do with his knights.”
A slow smile built on Asa’s face. “But you do?”
The vampire nodded. “I was never supposed to be king, but there was always a possibility. The intrigue around the royal families provides excellent study. How’s your soup?”
“It’s good.”
“I’ve never gotten used to tomatoes, but Marcus makes the best mushroom bisque I’ve ever had.”
“You don’t want to be friends with a human.”
Though maybe he did. Confusion crossed the vampire’s face. Maybe he had been friends with a human once. Was he Asa’s vampire? The one who’d come to him in secret?
