by Izzy Shows
My hands balled into fists as I thought about boiling his blood and rending him limb from limb without so much as lifting a finger. I could do it, I knew I could, but I had to stop myself.
"Like I said, I'm looking for a book," I said icily. "Now, if you'll excuse me--"
"I don't think I will. No, you must be up to something if you won't tell me what you're doing here, and I wouldn't be a good little soldier if I didn't pay heed to trouble brewing beneath my nose."
"I told you what I'm doing here--I'm looking for a book! Is it really so shocking that a thrall would want to read?"
But I knew it was. I remembered the way Alex had reacted when he found me curled up with a book, reading up on the history of the vampire war. He'd found it interesting that I had wanted to read it, as if it were something that shouldn't have even graced my mind as a desire.
Still, he hadn't reacted this way.
As if to emphasis the point, the vampire took a step forward and gripped my forearm. "I think you're lying."
"Well, there's nothing I can do about that, is there?" I said, smiling sweetly.
The visions of burning him from the inside out wouldn’t quite go away, for some reason, though I wasn't sure I wanted them to at the moment. It was all I could do to stop myself from destroying this bastard.
"Tomas, whatever do you think you're doing with the King's thrall?" a familiar voice drawled from the far corner of the library, near the entryway.
Hope flared within me, hope that I would get out of this without causing any problems. It was Alex. My eyes were drawn to him immediately, though in truth I would have preferred to keep them on the enemy in front of me. Alex looked the picture of male arrogance--his dirty blond hair hung about his shoulders, slightly rumpled, as if he'd just rolled out of bed or perhaps had been in the midst of some vigorous activity, his green eyes held no concern or alarm in them, and his features-- sharp cheekbones and a strong chin cased in pale white skin--were the picture of lazy dominance. He was in his element, and he had no concern for his strength being challenged. It was written in every inch of his muscular physique, in the relaxed position of his arms, crossed across his chest, and the way he had leaned one hip against the door.
The other vampire--Tomas--dropped my arm as if he’d been scalded. "Nothing at all, sir."
"I would hate to have to report to my dear friend that you had been manhandling what belongs to him. We all know how territorial one gets about one's thrall," Alex said, and he pushed off the door to stride closer to the two of us, not stopping until he reached us.
Was that true? Were vampires territorial about their thralls? I had known that Gray was rather protective of me--he'd proved it on more than one occasion--but I hadn't realized that it was a natural trait. It had always seemed like something of an odd thing about him.
"Of course, sir. I wouldn't dream of such a thing," Tomas said, obviously disturbed by Alex's interjection.
"I should think not," Alex said, grinning as if he was enjoying some joke. "That will be all, Tomas."
Though it didn’t affect me, I couldn’t miss the dismissive note in his voice--a note that was somehow surrounded by a great tone of command. It was clear that Alex wasn’t accustomed to being disobeyed.
I realized that although I knew Alex was Gray's friend, I actually didn’t know much about him and the way he fit into the court as a whole. Conall had given me a thick packet of information about the vampires' court and all the ranking nobles, but I couldn't seem to recall Alex being mentioned in it--and I didn’t like not knowing. It made me uneasy.
Clearly, Alex made Tomas uneasy as well, for Tomas bowed to both of us and made his exit rapidly, but not so fast that he didn't have time to throw a nasty look at me on the way out.
I resisted the childish urge to roll my eyes at him. He could pout all he wanted; I just wanted him gone. I wasn't afraid of him. I knew I could take him if I had to, but I also knew that would be more trouble than it was worth.
7
Nina
"Thank you," I said, smiling tightly at Alex. Though I was grateful for his interference--and I wasn't so full of myself that I couldn’t recognize the benefit he'd provided to the situation--I still wasn't in the mood for conversation.
My...interactions with Gray, and my own reactions during them, had left me rather tense.
"Not a problem at all. I'm happy to be of service to you, dear lady, should you ever need it," he said, bowing with a flourish.
I arched an eyebrow, covering my grin with one hand. "That was intense."
His emerald eyes sparkled at me. "You deserve every bit of it."
"Come now, Alex, you don't need to pretend." I gestured to the empty room. "There isn't anyone else here. I know what you must think of me. I owe you an apology and an explanation, and I more than deserve whatever you have to say to me--I know I do. But I just...I don't have the energy for a fight right now. I'm sorry."
Surprise sparked in his eyes, and he frowned, clearly confused.
"I don't think you quite understand me. I'm actually very pleased to have found you here, and not because I wish to snipe at you. I was hoping to talk to you as a friend. Would you have a seat with me?"
The fact that he made it a question instead of a command was not lost on me, nor was its significance. A vampire didn’t request things of a thrall, least of all one he knew was a blood mage--the enemy of his people. A command would have been more appropriate, though a snarled insult would have fit better.
Thrown as I was by that, I nodded slowly, too surprised to deny him. And too curious--I wanted to know what he meant by his words. What could possibly have possessed him to show me kindness rather than anger?
We walked to the sitting area, where we each took a seat in one of the armchairs. I found myself awkward in my seat, not quite knowing where to look or what to do with my hands. I settled for what I had fallen to doing in the suite with Gray: crossing my ankles together, folding my hands in my lap, and looking down at them.
I figured acting the part of the demure thrall was the safest possible course of action; if I didn't make myself seem like a threat to anyone, perhaps they wouldn't treat me as one. Perhaps they’d forget what I was.
It surprised me how much I wanted them to go back to treating me as a thrall. It hadn't been an entirely pleasant experience, but at least some of them had been kind to me.
"Nina."
"Hm?"
"Goodness, will you not even look at me?" His tone was soft, as if he were speaking to a wounded animal that might flee at the wrong word.
Perhaps that was what I was, now.
"I..." I pursed my lips and nibbled on the inside of one cheek.
"I'm not going to hurt you. Didn't I just say ’'m not here to attack you?"
I nodded, but I still didn’t raise my eyes.
"He wasn't kind to you, was he? Even after you saved his mother's life?"
My eyes jerked up as if they belonged to someone else, as if I didn’t control them, and I felt them widen in shock.
"What... Why would you... Huh?"
"Grayson. He wasn't kind to you, was he?"
"Why would you ask me that?" I tried to avoid answering, falling back on what I had learned about how the vampires spoke to one another, in never-ending circles that never quite gave you what you wanted.
He made a face. "We both know you're more direct than that. I don't see why you're avoiding it now. But, fine, I'll take the lead on breaking decorum. No one's here to see or hear us, anyway." He winked at me like a conspirator. "I'm asking because I know you've never tried to hide your thoughts, your feelings, or your opinions from any of us. You've always been so...open. So willing to speak your mind. It's beautiful, and I hope you don't let this crush that about you. But now you’re behaving like someone stole the very core of your essence, like they took away the ground you were standing on. I know that the Council berating you wouldn't have done that to you. You're too strong for that. But if Gray were to--"
>
"The King's reactions and words towards me have no more bearing than the Council's," I said, lifting my chin defiantly, a little of my old spark flickering inside of me.
He grinned. "There she is. Deny it all you want; I've seen the way you two look at one another. Uh-uh, let me speak." He wagged a finger at me just as I opened my mouth to refute what he was saying. " If our dear friend Gray were to lash out at you, as he did when he took you to the dungeon..." He grimaced, his eyes flashing with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher. I realized, belatedly, that he was...angry? "Apologies. Forgive me for my display of emotion. I still haven’t quite made up with him on the matter. I don't know if you recall, since there was so much going on for you at the time, but I did try to stop him. I still think it was a mistake. But if he again withdrew from you, lashed out at you, turned cold toward you, I think that would have much more of an effect. Perhaps it would even lead you to question yourself, where you stand here, what you're able to do and who you're able to talk to. I think Gray gave you a sense of security, and that's been taken away."
I didn't even know where to begin to respond to that, and it didn't help that my cheeks had heated at the mention of Gray--no, the King; I had to stop thinking of him as Gray--at how close to home Alex had hit with his presumptions.
How could I refute what he’d said when he could see the truth so clearly? Was I that see-through? Did everyone know what I was feeling about all this now?
I hated to think that anyone would think I was mooning over a man--which, of course, I wasn't. I would never lower myself to such a point.
Keep telling yourself that, chiquita, if it makes you feel better. You know the truth.
I pushed the intrusive thought away, not willing to give it the attention it demanded.
"Well?"
I grimaced, looking down at the floor again, trying to figure out how to respond to him.
He sighed. "All right. You don't have to respond to any of that. Just answer me this--facts only--was he cold to you?"
"In a way," I said after much hesitation.
Cold, hot, and then cold again. The voice in my head gave the real answer. The King had been so confusing, at first acting brusque, cold, aloof, and then warming up as he tried to put me at ease, then burning hot as we came together, and cold once more when he abruptly left me.
I didn't know what to think of him now, but it was true that it had left me unsettled, left me wondering what to do with myself. I could concede that point, at least.
"And more facts. Regardless of his demeanor, was he kind to you?"
"How do you define kind?" I asked.
His eyes softened. "Not like that."
My cheeks flushed. How could he know what I was thinking?
"I'm sorry he's treating you like this. If I could make him listen to me..."
"He has every right to treat me however he sees fit," I said firmly. "What I did to you all--I can understand how it would be unforgivable. If someone had betrayed me that way, I’d be more than just upset as well."
"Hm. It's interesting that you're able to see it that way."
I shrugged. "No, what's interesting is that you don't see it that way."
He grinned. "Well, I have a rather unique view of the world. It makes me something of an oddity at court, though I try to keep it to myself."
"And what view is that?"
He looked at me for a good long while, eyes narrowed, as if he was evaluating me, deciding whether or not I could be trusted. Of course I couldn't. Why would any of them trust me?
"I don't believe in acting in the heat of the moment, without consideration of the outside factors, of the motivations that might have inspired such actions," he said at last. "So, tell me. What were the other factors for you? What motivated you?"
I frowned. "What does it matter? I did what I did. That should be enough."
"It isn't. Not for me. I want to know why you did what you did."
"I won't make excuses for myself," I said, sitting up a little straighter, lifting my chin.
"Good," he said, and as if to make a point, he relaxed into his chair, clearly communicating that he had all the time in the world to wait me out.
I sighed, frustrated. I didn't want to get up and leave, to dismiss the only person who was making an effort to be kind to me. Alex had gone out of his way to try to understand me before, when I was just a thrall, the lowest of the low, when he could have dismissed me as a dumb animal, as all the other vampires saw thralls.
Not him, though. He cared, for some reason.
Go on, tell him. When are you going to get another chance to make a friend?
A friend? I didn't need friends. I'd never had friends before, and I didn't need them now. I had survived just fine on my own.
But you thought of Alex as a friend before all of this, and admit it--it warmed your soul. You ache for friendship, even if you won't admit it. You need this.
I was done arguing with myself, and I was feeling more than a little defiant. Alex wanted to try to understand me? Fine. I'd tell him everything--and then we'd see the truth, the way he'd look at me in disgust, the way he'd turn away from me.
There was no point in having friends, especially when they'd judge you, just as I was sure Alex would.
"All right, I'll tell you," I said at last, and I was gratified to see the surprise in his eyes. Clearly, he hadn't been expecting that. He'd thought I would fight more, no doubt. "You know I'm a blood mage, so it doesn't really bear repeating that I grew up in the dungeon. I don't remember much of my life before that, aside from...from my abuelita."
My voice cracked at the mention of her, and a rush of emotion and memories threatened to consume me--but just as I always did, I pushed them back. To remember was to be weak, and there was no room for that if I wanted to survive. That had been my mantra as long as I could remember, and I wasn't going to turn away from it now.
I went on.
"We were taken when I was six years old, and I was put in a cell on my own, without anyone else. I don't know if you're familiar with the dungeon, but that's not normal. Most of us are put in cells with four or five other people, just for population control, I guess. I know you all don't do it to be kind, but in a way, it is a kindness. It gives you people to lean on in the hard times, to give you comfort when you need it. I didn't have any of that. I didn't have anyone to talk to, anyone to comfort me when the guards whipped me, anyone to hold me when the nightmares came. I was on my own. I grew up like that, and it was a monotonous cycle of being left alone for so long that I almost wished the guards would come to punish me if only for the contact with other people it provided, and then being whipped within an inch of my life, being... being... touched..."
My voice broke again, and I found I couldn't go on. The memories pushed at the back of my mind again, reminding me...
Whore. You let that happen to you. You were weak. You didn't stop it. You should have done more. It's all your fault.
Alex's hand on my knee brought me back to the present with a violent jerk. He quickly withdrew his hand when he saw my reaction.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice and his face both grave. "I had no idea that was what happened down there. I assure you, I will put a stop to it."
"Thank you," I said, swallowing around the sudden lump in my throat. "It shouldn't be like that for anyone. But...why do you care what happens to blood mages?"
"Because I don't believe in hating a race of people, no matter what happened in the past. I understand from a logical standpoint that the dungeon are a necessity for the security of my people, but I don't believe the people kept there should be hurt. In fact, if it were up to me--well, this isn't the time for that. We can talk about that later. Please, go on--but feel free to skip that part if it hurts you."
I nodded rapidly, blinking furiously to chase away the tears that had come to blur my vision.
I had never expected such compassion from a vampire. It was...confusing.
"I was rescued, even
tually. I'm sure you all know something about that--about the wolf who broke into the dungeon."
He nodded.
"Anyway, he took me back to his compound, where all the other wolves live. They're all hunters. That’s all they do. They all work for Conall. He pays us for each successful hit, and, well, three strikes and you're out." I shrugged. "That's just the way it is there. He trained me just about from the moment I got there, to be the perfect hunter. The perfect killer. And before I knew it, that was my life. One hit after another. It just became normal, and I won't deny that I enjoyed it--the thrill of the kill is something that doesn't compare to anything else in life. It's not like I hated every day of my life. It’s just..."
"You didn't get to choose it," he said, finishing the thought I hadn't fully formed in my head.
I frowned. "Well, no. No, I didn't choose that life."
He was looking at me curiously, clearing forming some sort of opinion in his mind, but what?
After several minutes of torturous silence, I couldn't bear it any longer.
"What? What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking you've had few--if any--opportunities in your life to make your own decisions. You lived in the dungeon, where presumably you didn't even choose when you ate or slept. You lived by the demands and decisions of the guards, and then you were, as you put it, rescued and taken away to a whole new world, where yet again you were unable to make your own decisions. Where someone told you where to go, what to do, how to be. I'm curious about the similarities. Did you have the freedom to choose when to eat, when to sleep? Did you have any opportunity for free time, for fun?"
His words disturbed me in ways I hadn't expected, and I found I was loath to answer them. Not only was he not reacting with the revulsion I had expected--I had just admitted to enjoying killing people, for God's sake--but he was offering me consideration I didn't deserve.
And he was asking questions that provoked feelings in me that I wasn't quite ready to examine. But I was determined to answer him--determined to finally give him a reason to hate me. To prove that I was right, that this was all anyone could ever feel for me.
