by Kayleigh Sky
“Why didn’t you?”
Morjin’s gaze swiveled his way again. “What does it matter? And what do you want?”
“Revenge.”
Morjin sneered. “Not vengeance?”
Bronny blinked, nonplussed. “It’s the same thing.”
“No, Wrythin. It’s not. Vengeance is hot… Like blood.”
“Either way,” said Bronwen.
“Practical, are you?”
“I get things done.”
“You’re running Wen’s center, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
Morjin stared. “All of it?”
Bronwen took a sip of his coffee. “This is good. My human can’t make a good cup of coffee to save her neck.”
Morjin chuckled. “Break it.”
Bronny laughed too. “I wish. I don’t have time to hire someone else though. I’m making changes. Preparing the donors for their proper place. Wen was… Well, indulgent. I owe him, though. He was my brother.”
Morjin shrugged. “Some blood is better than others.”
“Solomon Frenn suggested you might be a useful contact.”
A smile grew on Morjin’s face. “I’m almost as low as you, Wrythin.”
“I want that to change.”
Morjin laughed. “Good luck.”
“I want revenge. Wen deserves that.”
“Wen spoiled his humans.”
“And served the Ellowyn.”
“And the only reason I haven’t kicked your pampered ass out of here.”
Bronny bristled but didn’t put it past the bastard to try. “I told you I want revenge, and I’m going to get it. I’m onto something, but I need your help.”
“With what?”
“Spies.”
Morjin’s laugh shook Bronwen’s nerves. “Spies? I don’t know any spies.”
Bronwen ignored that. “Camiel Nezzarram is up to something. He left his district and is staying with Essie Orla. He has somebody with him, but I couldn’t get close enough to see. Whoever was with him didn’t go up to the house right away. He approached in the dark.”
The last of Morjin’s laugh faded from his face. “How do you know that?”
“I followed him.”
“You?”
Bronwen flushed. “It’s not my area of expertise.”
“You think it’s mine?”
“I thought you’d want to help. For Og.”
“Og was an idiot.” Morjin’s face darkened, pain skimming its surface. His gaze turned inward. “An idiot,” he muttered again.
“Camiel read for him.”
“Camiel is an idiot.”
Bronwen finished his coffee. “I wasted your time.”
“Don’t fuck with me.”
Bronwen froze, startled by the human tone of the comment. “I… You don’t seem interested.”
Morjin’s nose wrinkled. “I hate humans, but Og made his dying easy.”
Bronwen hadn’t seen the body but people talked. Vampires talked. Og’s death hadn’t been even close to easy. Morjin had been at the scene though.
“A difficult thing to see.”
Morjin shrugged, but his gaze was still distant. “It was dark. I put it behind me, but now… Well, traitors don’t deserve to live, and if Cammy’s a traitor, it’s time for him to die.” With that, he sat up, blinked at Bronwen, and smiled. His full lips curled, and his eyes sparkled in the dimming light. “More coffee?”
25
Almost Home
Isaac didn’t want to go into the classroom. Somebody like him would stick out like a sore thumb. He wasn’t anything like the kids who streamed past him. Kids who gave the impression they had no idea vampires lived in the world, though some of them looked like vampires.
He stopped at the top of the stairs. People sat under umbrellas outside a coffee shop. Storefronts surrounded the quad like a small town square.
His head spun for a minute. Maybe he was the one with the reality problem because the world had gotten on with business as normal.
He glanced back at Camiel’s SUV idling by the curb.
Except for the vampire prince who’d fucked his brains out the night before. That wasn’t normal.
And it had been a lousy idea too.
Go.
He glowered. Fuck you.
I warned you. I don’t get to do whatever I want. Not now.
“Fuck you anyway,” he griped.
The hum of the SUV’s engine changed as Camiel shifted gears and rolled off.
Isaac swallowed and headed across the quad. They’d picked him to be the messenger because Rune said, “You’re young. Just sit in her class. You’ll fit right in.”
No, he wouldn’t. He stuck out. Normal kids fit in—Isaac was a blood whore.
Somebody to fuck and dump before dawn. Okay, he’d gotten a kiss first, but big deal. It was a brush off that came with fingers threading through his hair, that was all…
* * *
“I have to go,” Rune said.
That woke him up, snapped life right through him. “Without the map?”
He stared clear-eyed into Rune’s smoldering eyes. Did the fire in him ever die down? His wavy hair fell in tangles around his face. The hair on his chest shadowed his pecs and snaked in a thin line down his ridged belly. He sat sideways on the bed, his weight on one palm, his sensuous, sleepy mouth firming in irritation.
“I need the map, Isaac.”
“No. It’s mine.”
“It’s not yours. It’s ours.”
“One of you gave it to me.”
“A dead man.”
“Whatever.”
When Rune stood, Isaac caught his breath. Holy fuck, he was gorgeous. His soft cock was thick enough to hide most of his balls. Isaac’s mouth watered, and it took everything in him to tear his gaze away and meet Rune’s glittering glare.
“It’s dangerous for you.”
“Protect me.”
“Isaac—”
“You can take it from me.”
“You know I won’t.”
No…
* * *
It was that fated thing. But more. Maybe a Rune thing. Taking it from Isaac against his will would have been… dishonorable.
He had to give Rune credit for that, which was why he was crossing the quad, climbing another flight of steps, and heading toward a two-story building painted a dark blue-gray. He entered a linoleum-tiled corridor, glanced at the numbers on the classrooms, and found a staircase that took him to the second floor. He opened the door to 11C, slid inside, and dropped into the first empty seat.
The space was set up like a theater with each row of chairs lower than the ones behind it. It was a large room, and more than half the seats were taken. The lights were low, and there was a screen on the far wall.
The class was supposed to be letting out in a few minutes. Rune had been waiting for that before sending Isaac up. One of the students waved her hand. She sat three rows below, but Mal, leaning against the podium, pinned her stare on Isaac.
“I don’t understand,” said the girl. “If Ellowyn culture is based on the idea vampires are the descendants of Lucifer, it can’t precede Judaism. Lucifer is a Judeo-Christian concept.”
“Is it?” Mal shifted her gaze to the girl. “This class isn’t the place to debate the validity of religion, but it’s never a good idea to make an unfounded supposition. While many humans understand Lucifer within a Judeo-Christian framework, the Ellowyn do not. And that, my friends, is that. I want your compare-and-contrast papers by Friday next week. This is a short term, so don’t get behind.” She shot another glance at Isaac. “I might be out of touch for a few days, so leave any messages for me with my assistant. Now go. Get out of here and have a fun weekend.”
A smile lifted a corner of her mouth, but it wasn’t for him, that was for sure. She was probably pissed at him for disappearing, but Jessa knew where he was now, and Isaac had saved her life, so…
He stood to let a couple of kids s
queeze past him. Mal was like a statue, still leaning on the podium. She didn’t move until the last student vacated the room.
“Will you please get those lights for me?” She pointed at a panel on the wall beside the door he’d come through.
He tapped a lever and all the lights but a row over the stage snapped off. He climbed down the steps. Mal slid several folders into a messenger bag, snapped it shut, and looked over.
“That was a lousy thing to do, Isaac.”
His mouth wanted to say, “I know,” because it was easiest and a little bit true, but he said, “I had to,” instead.
“Rune?”
He blinked, and she laughed. “Yes, I know. And no, Jessa doesn’t. I will leave that to you to tell him. My brother is an obsessive asshole. I’m assuming he’s nearby and sent you to pave his way.”
“People are looking for him.”
“For good reason.” She brushed a snap on her bag with a fingertip before swinging it onto her shoulder. “Is that why he didn’t come to the castle?”
“I guess so.”
His irritation roughened his voice.
Mal smiled and leaned close to him, murmuring, “He has a way of getting under your skin,” before kissing his cheek. “Come on. I’ll show where my office is. It’s an older building and almost empty.”
“Do you know what he’s doing?”
She laughed. “Everything Rune does is larger than life. I couldn’t believe he gave up the throne. I couldn’t believe how quiet he’s been for so many years, except that Jessa needed us. But it seems Rune had an agenda all along.”
“Are you mad at him?”
She grinned as she pushed open the door of the building. “You have no idea.”
He followed her along a cement walkway that separated two rectangles of lawn. She had on her everyday look, the one he’d seen in her home and nowhere else. No dark painted eyes or crimson lips. No miniskirts or thigh-high boots.
Still, he liked to keep his distance. There was something about Mal that wasn’t all that different from Rune. What had they been like growing up? Had they been scary kids too?
They turned onto another walkway and passed under the shade of a grove of redwood trees before taking another flight of steps down to a dilapidated, single-story building that resembled a trailer about to outgrow its space. It was covered in a rough beige siding, its windows small and square.
“This way.”
From a central hall he followed Mal into her office, which was small and gave him the impression he’d stepped into another place and time. A bushy evergreen grew outside the only window. Murky gray light filled the room, and the air was stuffy and musty with books.
She dropped her bag on a chair beside her desk. “Go on. Bring him.”
“They won’t stop.” His voice surprised him. He wasn’t sure it was his voice.
She licked her lips, pursed them, and stared up at the ceiling as though considering her next words. “The Adi ’el Lumi, you mean? Yes, I know.” She lowered her gaze. “I’d hardly heard of them before the Upheaval or for years after. They were like ghosts, and now they’ve been resurrected.” She nodded toward the door. “Go on. I’ll wait here.”
He hurried away, following the arrow on a sign that read Parking Lot C. A sidewalk curved along the campus and sloped down into the main parking lot. Camiel’s red SUV sat like a blood spot in the middle of a cluster of cars. He trotted over, his door popping open before he got there. He climbed up front and twisted toward the back. “We can go to her office.”
“How many people in the area?” Rune asked.
“Hardly any. It was quiet.”
“Still. Damn this car. We need to swap it for something else.” Rune sighed. “Let’s go.”
Camiel started the engine and pulled out. A half dozen cars lined up at the exit, but Camiel turned away and headed up the string of parking lots.
The college was built on a hill and formed three levels. On the other side of the road where it curved along the crest, a residential section disappeared into eucalyptus groves.
Rune pointed. “Go in there.”
Camiel turned onto a street lined with houses. They passed one with a bike lying on the driveway. Another one with a yard of blinding white rock. The street curved, and Camiel gave a flustered breath. “Where are we going?”
Rune shook his head. “Not sure.”
“We don’t have to hide. It’s not like these humans are going to recognize you.”
“I saw vampires too,” Isaac said.
The street led into another grove of eucalyptus and curved back toward the school. A park appeared, and Rune said, “Turn in there.”
Camiel pulled into a dirt parking lot. They caught glimpses of houses through the trees, but it was quiet and still here with a few cars but no people. A jogging trail ran alongside a split-rail fence. Camiel turned off the vehicle, and the doors popped open.
Rune shook his head. “Stay. I don’t need company.”
Camiel huffed. “Sitting here looks more suspicious than not.”
Rune climbed from the car. “Maybe you should take a hike.” But he grumbled it as though conceding that two vamps and a human sitting in a bright red SUV in a neighborhood parking lot might set off a few alarms.
And they passed no one.
The few cars in the school parking lot probably belonged to the instructors.
Rune led the way, so why had he sent Isaac up ahead? He clearly knew where her office was. Had it only been to make sure nobody was there? Why not turn into a fog? Unless… He didn’t want Camiel and Anin to know about that.
They went down the steps from the parking lot to the trailer-like building. Mal’s door stood open.
Isaac scurried in behind Rune, but the fireworks he expected never made an appearance. Rune strode into Mal’s arms. She held him close.
“I missed you, brother.”
Isaac’s throat grew thick and tight, and he clamped a hand to it, staring at the convulsive bob of Rune’s Adam’s apple. Was the feeling coming from him?
Anin and Camiel stood silently on either side of the doorway. After a few minutes, Rune stepped back, and Isaac’s throat eased.
“Are you well?”
Mal slapped Rune’s arm. “No, you dimwit. As you recall you abandoned us, and I almost died.”
Rune glanced at Isaac and flashed him a smile. “I sent you help.”
She gave Isaac a sour half grimace, half smile before turning back to Rune. “Have you found the last necklace?”
He shook his head. “No. But we found something else.”
“We?”
Color seeped into Rune’s pale face, and that glower that made Isaac want to leap on him and rip his clothes off pulled his mouth down. “It’s a map. Isaac has half.”
Mal’s eyes twinkled, and amusement laced her words. “How interesting.”
“Very,” Rune said.
She turned her smile on Camiel and Anin. “Hello, Cammy.”
Camiel inclined his head. “Enchanting as ever, princess. May I introduce Anin?”
Anin touched his chin to his chest. “It is my honor.”
“Mine,” Mal said. “Aren’t you the king’s enforcer?”
“Yes, princess.”
“And my boyfriend,” Isaac blurted. Oh fuck. Why’d I say that?
Rune’s eyes narrowed, and his jaw twitched as he clenched it. Isaac lifted his chin at him. Take that.
I can hear you.
“Yes, we’re all quite jealous.” Camiel tilted his head, a thin smile playing on his lips. “The young are so charming.”
He didn’t sound like he actually thought that though, and his smile on Isaac thinned into a razor’s edge. Oops.
Mal broke the tense silence that followed. “Yes. Well.” She yanked her gaze from Camiel to Rune. “What did you find? I’m assuming whatever it is is why you’re here?”
He nodded and straightened from where he’d sat on the edge of the desk, removed his half
of the map from the envelope he carried it in, and unfolded it. “Can you read it?”
Mal took the parchment, went around her desk, and sat in the light. She rested her fingertips on the edge and bent close to it.
“My god, this is old. Dead actually. Ono is an offshoot, not even a dialect.”
Surprise washed over Rune’s face, softening his features. “It’s from Onoppeil? Is it connected to the Wrythin family?”
“I don’t know. Obviously, Onopiel sounds like it should come from Onoppiel, but it’s a completely different language from Ono. Where did you get this?”
“From someone who was supposed to lead me to the necklace. He was murdered before I could talk to him. Why would the lowest of the families have a map to the treasure?”
“Is that what this is?”
“It’s on the back. I recovered half of it. Isaac has the other half.”
Mal’s head popped back up, and she speared Isaac with a narrowed gaze. “How did you get it?”
“A vampire gave it to me. He died too. At Princess Esseline’s.”
The impulse to peer sideways at Camiel came out of nowhere, except that Rune turned too, a frown narrowing his eyes, and something strange, not quite like fear, crossed Camiel’s face then was gone.
“That,” said Mal, “is curious. I have no idea what it says, except there seems to be an iambic beat to it. This was once common in almost all written communication in both Onopiel and Maja. I think this word—” She pointed, and Rune looked over her shoulder, “—has its roots in Maja and means a twist or puzzle.”
Rune gave a wry smile. “Well, it is that.” He glanced at Camiel. “Do you remember Maja?”
Camiel shook his head. “A few words. My family mostly speaks Celes now.”
Mal folded the map. “Fortunately, I know someone who can help.”
“Who?” Rune asked. But when she stood and pulled her coat off the back of the chair, he shook his head. “This isn’t a fucking party.”
“Well, I’m having fun,” Camiel murmured.
Mal flashed Camiel another smile. “You always do, Cammy.”
“I try, princess.”
