Under Lili’s name were two lines of extra information.
Her Highness the Princess of House Lilith, first risen October 1st, 1611.
Her Majesty the Queen of House Lilith, ascended June 1st, 1785.
Had Lili laid Lilith and Adam to their forever rest? Maybe it was death, but worded nicer since the new queen was at fault? Was she an evil queen who had taken over by force? Or had Lilith been a royal bitch, and Lili saved everyone by laying her and this Adam down for a long dirt nap? God, I had so many questions. It was driving me mad.
A string of silver ivy dripping with blood reached down from Lili’s branch to the next row of names. There were just two this time. Morgan and Alexander. Both risen in the early seventeen hundreds. Both listed first as duke and duchess, and then later as prince and princess. Morgan’s name was stained with red ink, like Gabriella’s, but the explanation given for her demise was more vague, simply stating that she’d been slain. Twenty years ago.
Beneath Morgan’s branch was one for a duchess named Ursula. Where had I heard that name before? My mind drew a blank as I took in the two remaining lines, naming Raphael and Scarlett as Ursula’s scions. The exiled baron and baroness, though that detail had been left off their supplementary information. Either the book hadn’t been updated or the family didn’t like to record any more dirty laundry than they had to.
A narrow bit of space remained along the bottom edge of the page. I imagined my name there and what it might say. What my title would be. What my demise would be recorded as. Then I wondered if I’d be recorded at all, or just swept under the rug of House Lilith’s illicit history.
A shiver rocked my shoulders, and I turned my attention to the other side of the page where I’d left off with Prince Alexander. Beneath him, the name Dante caught my attention.
His Grace the Duke of House Lilith, first risen May 7th, 1865.
Duke Dante. It had a nice ring to it. Though that baby face certainly hadn’t looked like it was a hundred and fifty plus years old.
One other scion was listed for Alexander. Her frilly name read Kassandra, risen fifty years after Dante. Neither of them had scions of their own listed yet, but from the pattern I’d discerned, it was only a matter of time.
I wondered if they had any half-sired scions, or if any of them had ever gone through training at the bat cave. Not likely. I snorted. Then I thought of Cain Davis and Blair’s admission that he wasn’t hers. Then just who the hell did he belong to? The sire of House Hanson maybe? Or another of Blair’s sibling scions?
I abandoned the book and hurried back upstairs, trying to decide if I should begin my hunt in the Ds or the Hs. I decided to trace the paper trail back from Blair’s file. Somewhere between her last fifty tax returns and the application for her most recent human documents, I found a copy of her scion appointment certificate. It was dated for 1983.
Blair’s sire was not Lord Hanson himself, but rather a scion of a scion of his. I jumped from file to file, searching for any hint of the white-haired underling’s name. But before I found him, another name crossed my path. Scarlett Lilosa.
My fingers clenched the typed page, and I blinked several times, trying to clear my eyes. Hands shaking, I squatted to the floor and pressed my back against the cold filing cabinet. I took a deep breath and started reading from the top of the page again.
The official letterhead bore an insignia that resembled a simplified version of the crowned vampire skull I’d seen on the cover of the royal family’s history book. It looked like a photocopy of a letter that must have been sent to House Hanson.
Official transfer order from the House of Lilith regarding the estate of Scarlett Lilosa.
The letter went on to detail the estate items Lord Hanson had won in the auction and when he could expect them to be delivered. After a lengthy list of designer dresses crafted by none other than Wilhelmina Novak, the master sire of House Novak, and a collection of vintage Japanese war fans, I found the name I’d originally been looking for.
He was listed alongside several others, each noted for the service they had formerly provided Scarlett. A gardener, a chaperone, and her harem supervisor—C. Davis. Well. This was…awkward. With the rumors circulating around base, I had to imagine he knew of my run-in with his former master. I didn’t know if the revelation should alarm me. With twenty years and a new household, how likely was it that he would care anyway?
I put the files back and decided to think on it more after my visit with Natalie. On my way downstairs, I stole another glance at Alice’s desk. I was still alone.
The darkness seeping from the unlit corners of the library seemed to whisper out to me, beckoning me to peel back another layer of the mystery I’d become to myself. I wanted to stay longer and read beyond House Lilith’s family tree. Whether they knew it or not, I was one of them now.
I shrugged off the impulse to trace my steps back to the guarded family tome and slipped down the aisle of leisure books. In the thin light, I struggled to read the titles as I fingered the shelf where I’d found the creepy love poems. Natalie would enjoy them, being the cheerful, bubblegum goth that she was.
As I pulled the volume free, a silhouette caught the corner of my eye. I yelped and dropped the book of poems before making out Sonja’s springy curls. I hadn’t heard her come in while I was upstairs.
“You scared the hell right out of me.” I laughed as I bent down to fetch the book. “I thought you’d be out stalking the night with the others.”
When Sonja didn’t reply, I stepped closer, squinting through the darkness. A sole pendant lamp near the door spilled just enough light over the shelves and against her back that I could make out her shape and no more. Something in the perfect silence sparked my blood vision, causing the shadows to yield to the luminosity of my clandestine birthright.
Sonja’s wrists were cuffed to the arms of the chair. Her blistered skin bubbled under the silver, but the casual drape of her fingers told me she couldn’t feel the burn. Not anymore, at least.
The gaping hole in her chest, where her heart should have been, made sure of that.
Chapter Fourteen
An office existed on base for the rare few times a royal representative stopped in to check how the programs were going and to get an update for the duke. I’d asked Natalie at one point if the duke had ever visited himself. Not in the two years since she had been there, she’d told me.
Aren’t I special? I thought, as I sat in the royal office. The duke watched me from across the room, stealing glances in between reading from a file with my name on it. He’d asked Sergeant Sorano to leave the room, and for the first time, I thought she actually looked sorry for me.
“¿Quién es tu creador?” he asked again.
I licked my lips. “Pablo Zajalvo.”
The duke, Dante, as I now knew, tilted his head to one side and gave me a lazy, friendly smile. His soft curls enhanced the flirty frat boy look he possessed. They disarmed me, and I found myself forgetting that he was an ancient, royal duke.
“I don’t think you did this,” he said, trying to set me at ease. My fingers clenched around the arms of the chair, and my knees bobbed with the adrenaline still rushing through my veins.
After discovering Sonja in the library and having a good old fashioned panic attack, I went straight to the harem and found Marco, Mr. Blueblood. He’d known how to reach Kai in an emergency.
The sergeants all returned to base right away, discovering that the tunnel guard had been killed too, and the security feed tampered with. That’s when the duke had been contacted. As devastating as circumstances were, everyone was shocked when he arrived to launch the investigation himself, along with half a dozen personal guards, three hours before sunrise.
Dante watched me carefully, even as he explained his conclusion. “For one, you were the only cadet still wearing a training watch, and your vitals report shows no activity that could account for a struggle during the timeframe the coroner suggests Sonja died.”
“I liked Sonja,” I said, struggling to make eye contact with him. I folded my hands together in front of my face and sighed. “She was the only cadet who was actually nice to me.”
“Really?” He didn’t sound surprised. “Why do you think that is?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Maybe she felt sorry for me. Or maybe—”
“No.” His eyebrows dipped up, giving him a deceptive air of sympathy. “Why do you suppose the others aren’t nice to you?”
“Oh.” I straightened in my chair and blinked down at my lap. “They think I’m too young and inexperienced to be training with them.”
He nodded slowly and tapped a finger on the outside of the folder in his hands. “I see here that you’ve done well keeping pace with them—and that you’ve been spending what little free time you have studying in the library?”
“Yes.” I swallowed.
“And what do you study?” His question sounded irrelevant, but some part of my mind searched for the trapdoor. What would my answer prove or disprove? Dante’s tender eyes pulled the truth from me before I had time to evaluate it first.
“Everything,” I said, my breath trembling. “I’m a sireless vampling, and this program isn’t designed to cover the scion basics. So I’m learning them on my own the best I can.”
My answer seemed to tug at his grin. “And how is that going, Ms. Skye?” he asked, coming around the desk between us to lean against the edge of it.
I shrugged. “Great, until tonight.” I pressed my hands to my face. “God, Sonja…who could have done that?”
“That’s what I intend to find out,” Dante said.
It felt like I was being dismissed. I was training to be a Blood Vice agent, but I wasn’t one yet. Still, it stung to be on the outside, especially when the crime was so personal. Sonja was my friend. She’d been left in the library, where everyone knew I would be.
“I don’t feel safe here,” I admitted.
Dante sighed. “I heard about the coffin in the pool. To be frank, I’m amazed that you didn’t quit that first day. I certainly didn’t expect you to last this long. You keep surprising, Ms. Skye.”
“I don’t want to quit now.” I frowned at him. “But I don’t want to have my heart carved out in my sleep, either.”
“I assure you, you are perfectly safe now that I’m here. Nothing will happen to you. I swear it.” He reached out, his hand coming close to touching my chin before it diverted and squeezed my shoulder instead. Warmth emanated from his exposed arm, where the sleeve of his dress shirt had been folded back. I could feel it on my cheek. It made me aware of how cold I was, and reminded me that I hadn’t fed tonight.
“Can I ask you a question?” I said as he released my shoulder and pulled away.
His eyes lit up. “Anything.”
“Why did you allow me into this program if you didn’t think I’d last?” I blushed, wondering if he’d heard about the circulating rumors in addition to the pool ordeal.
Dante folded an arm across his chest and propped his opposite elbow on it before pressing his knuckles against his chin. He gave me a thoughtful frown. “Most sireless vamplings would have been content to be granted the opportunity to beg for their lives, but you not only refused to grovel, you requested to be thrown on the frontline. I wanted to see how far that tenacity would take you. I still do.”
A knock on the door abruptly ended our conversation.
“Enter,” Dante called out.
“The other cadets are arriving, Your Grace,” one of the guards announced from the hallway.
The duke nodded. “Escort Ms. Skye back to the crypt and bring Ms. Hanson in to be interviewed next.” He gave me another of his charming, demure frowns. “My condolences on the loss of your friend.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” I bowed my head before standing to leave.
Dante’s guard followed me a few steps behind. He wasn’t especially fancy or obvious. Just a plain, black suit that obviously hid several firearms. His looming presence was silent, but I felt the authority rolling off of him, and it unnerved me.
“I haven’t fed yet,” I said to him over my shoulder. “Do you mind if we stop by the harem first?”
“Straight to the crypt,” he said, voice low and warning. “Those were the orders. Besides, the harem has been cleared out.”
“What?”
“It’s for their safety.”
I paused in the hallway, but only briefly before he nudged me to continue on. “We’re on a base full of vampires. How the hell is that supposed to work?” I hissed.
The man snorted behind me. “Let the grownups worry about that, vampling.”
A hollow pit formed in my stomach as we reached the crypt. The other cadets all turned to watch as I entered the room, Dante’s guard close at my back. Their glares were less bothered tonight, edged more with cautious suspicion instead. I eyed each of them the same in turn, lingering a moment longer on Mic. Then I spotted another of Dante’s guards in the corner of the room.
“Ms. Hanson.” My escort waved a hand at her, beckoning her out of the room. “The duke would like a word with you.”
Blair’s eyes bulged and she sucked in a sharp breath before frowning in my direction. She clearly assumed that I had pointed a finger at her. There wasn’t time to explain that I hadn’t—not that I was overly concerned with easing her anxiety. Not when she’d been the source of so much of my own since arriving at the bat cave.
Once Blair had departed, the others turned on me.
“What the hell is going on?” Emma wanted to know.
I glanced at the guard in the corner and pressed my lips together. The duke hadn’t told me to keep quiet, but I knew that whatever I shared here would go straight back to him, so I had to consider my words carefully.
“Where’s Sonja?” Andre asked next. He sat on the edge of his bunk, elbows propped on his knees.
“Sonja is dead.” My eyes fell on Mic again, searching for any trace of guilt.
“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” he spat, surprise and panic lacing his features. “You two were the only ones who stayed on base.”
“The harem did, too,” Andre injected, his mind initiating an internal investigation the same way mine had.
I shook my head. “I don’t think a human could have…managed something like that.”
Emma huffed and leaned back against the wall behind her bunk. She ran both hands through her short hair. “What a fucking mess.” Her disgust seemed to extend to all of us. “This had better not terminate the program. I’ve worked too hard to get this far.”
“We all have,” Andre said, his eyes narrowing on Mic. “I didn’t see you tonight, Novak. Where did you run off to?”
Mic’s face flushed, and he stopped pacing the room. In a flash, he was standing before Andre, towering over him. “Shut your fucking face, Freeman,” he growled, fangs extending.
Andre stood slowly, coming to his full height a good five inches taller than Mic. His callous eyes stared down at the vampire as his own fangs began to slide free, digging into his bottom lip.
The guard in the corner slipped a hand inside the fold of his jacket, and we all froze. “Sit down, boys,” he said calmly. “You’ll all have your turn with the duke.”
Andre and Mic parted and settled into their bunks. I did the same.
My heart was heavy, but I struggled against my grief over Sonja. I tried not to think about the friends and family who would undoubtedly be grieving her soon, too. I hadn’t known her long, but losing that beacon of kindness in this place, after being surrounded by so much loathing and ridicule…it was devastating. Still, something clenched in my chest, telling me not to show weakness in the company of predators.
We all stewed in silence until Blair returned. Andre was summoned next. Blair refused to speak to any of us as she climbed into her bunk. Even when Mic pressed her for details, she simply shook her head and lay down.
The interviews carried on, even as sunrise ap
proached. Mic was last to be called out of the crypt. Nearly an hour passed, and he didn’t return.
The guard in the corner swapped places with a human shortly before daybreak. I knew he was human because the panic and despair churning in my mind had activated the Eye of Blood, and the new guard faded behind the red screen while the vampire cadets in their bunks dotted my vision with bursts of color.
I fought dawn as it came for me, knowing some awful fate lingered in the shadows, waiting for the cover of day to strike.
Chapter Fifteen
I woke with a start Sunday night, wondering why the overhead light in the crypt hadn’t come on. When my head connected with a felt-lined panel, I had my answer.
Being in a coffin again set my heart off like a rabbit after hearing a gunshot. I pounded my fist against the box and gasped, suddenly unable to catch my breath. “Help!”
A muffled groan sounded nearby. “Get comfy, green fang. We’re going to be here a while,” Blair’s annoyed voice echoed as if coming from another coffin.
I heard Andre grumble next. “Great.”
“Mic?” Blair called out, hope and worry hiking her voice. “Emma?”
“Present,” Emma answered dryly. “Now feel free to fuck off. I’ll be meditating for the next three days.”
“Mic?” Blair tried one more time. But he never answered.
We all fell quiet, and I wondered who else might be listening. I wondered how well the others had fed the night before. If this was the three-day coffin-lock trial, as Blair suggested, it was going to end up being four for me. Was that something that could even be done?
A few minutes later, I heard the crypt door hiss open, and Sergeant Sorano’s voice greeted us. “Attention cadets. I’m sure by now you’ve realized that you’re in coffins. You’ll remain in them for three days to test your stamina. If at any point you reach your limit, you are free to tap out by telling the guard stationed in the room your name and household affiliation.”
Blood in the Water (Blood Vice Book 3) Page 12
