by Dannika Dark
I gasped, branching away from him toward the stone railing to my right. A wide interior balcony overlooked the property out front. The balcony didn’t protrude from the house but was built-in, covered, and yet completely open in the front. I could see everything from this vantage point: the front gate at the end of the driveway, the tops of the trees, how green the grounds were. A light breeze picked up the ends of my hair, and I leaned forward, taking it all in. Imagining how it must look moments before dawn simply stole my breath away.
“I didn’t know places like this existed.”
He half turned on his way to the opposite door, remaining quiet and watchful.
A series of stone arches ran along the railing, creating dividers between the openings.
“We have another that overlooks the courtyard,” he said absently.
Courtyard? I almost had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dead. Maybe I hadn’t survived the attack in the bathroom a few nights ago.
Thunder rolled, and the clouds opened up, rain falling like a heavy curtain and obscuring my view of the front gate.
“How many acres does he own?”
“Hundreds.”
A gust of wind slapped me in the face with a spray of rain.
Christian chuckled and carried on, hands clasped behind his back.
We moved through the opposite door and then turned left down a narrow hall with windows along the left side. It confused me since it was the central part of the house.
“That’s the courtyard,” he said, catching the direction of my gaze.
We passed a quaint sitting room on the right, no more than six by six with a long bench on the back wall and two chairs that faced each other. Most of the doors in the hall were closed until we reached a large open room on the right. I caught a glimpse of one of those giant globes on a stand. This place probably had secret passageways and a labyrinth made from hedges.
After making another turn with more windows overlooking the courtyard, he fell back a step and entered a room on the right.
“Let me give you a piece of advice,” he began as I moved past him. “Don’t go exploring and sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. Viktor laid out the offer, but you’re not an official member of the club until he says so. Some of these rooms are private, and the doors are closed for a reason.”
I turned on my heel. “Afraid I’m going to discover your My Little Pony collection? Don’t worry about me. Just go back to your coffin and let me settle in.”
“You’re an insufferable child,” he grumbled, exiting the room in a swift movement. “And for feck’s sake, put on a bra.”
“It’s not my fault you don’t have a heater.”
I wiggled my fingers in a farewell when the door slammed. Annoying Christian might actually be kind of fun. He seemed offended by my very existence. Most Vampires were loners, and women were merely a recreational pastime. They probably could have made more women among their kind, but they didn’t. Their elders had laws that frowned upon making new younglings without approval—although I’m sure they made exceptions—but most Vampires didn’t seem to want the responsibility. Younglings were impulsive and slaves to bloodlust, the insatiable desire to drink blood. Thankfully I’d never had that problem, and maybe that was why I didn’t understand it. I’d targeted a few young Vampires who’d purchased slaves off the black market to feed on.
Sickos.
I stood with my back to the wooden door and took a moment to look at my room. The ceilings were high, the walls and floor made from grey stone, and there was a fireplace on the left with no mantel. This wasn’t the penthouse suite by any means. The furniture was rustic and made of wood, from the armoire on my right to the end tables by the bed. Not a four-poster or even a sleigh bed, just a plain wooden headboard on a frame that was lower to the ground than modern ones. A small desk and chair filled the far right corner. I turned to my left and looked at the large floor mirror leaning against the corner wall.
“Do I really look like that?” I whispered, approaching my reflection.
A weary-eyed girl gazed back at me, her black hair unkempt and tangled from the rain. She looked haggard in her baggy shirt and ripped jeans. When I’d first turned, men found me attractive, but now I could see why it had become harder to lure some of them into private rooms. Most bathroom mirrors just showed the top half, so seeing the full scope of what I’d devolved into was rather depressing. I still had my long legs going for me, and I played up my features with dark lipstick and a little eyeliner. But I looked malnourished, my skin was pallid, my clothes stained, and there was even dirt beneath my fingernails.
Or was it blood?
“Disastrous,” I muttered, wondering if I smelled as bad as I looked.
This was what street life had done to me.
I turned away and approached the window straight ahead, stepping onto a white rug. I traced my fingers along the metal lattice on the leaded windows. The arched window was wide, expressive, and each sash opened inward. I deduced by all the turns we’d made that my view was the back of the mansion.
The first thing I did was drag the rug in front of the fireplace. Then I set my bag on the bed and noticed my weapons were missing.
“Oh, you’re kidding me,” I said in disbelief.
Viktor wanted me to be part of his elite organization, and yet he didn’t want me armed?
I turned in a circle and noticed there wasn’t a lamp in the room. The rain outside had cast a dark shroud over the property, and all I had were lanterns affixed to the walls and candles on the tables. I peeked in a drawer and found fresh candles and a box of matches.
“Putting on my makeup should be fun,” I mused.
To the right of the bed was an open doorway, so I went to investigate and discovered a bathroom behind the wall. The sink and oval mirror on the left were basic, and the standing shower straight ahead had a glass door that offered no privacy. But what caught my eye was the claw-foot tub within a recessed wall on the right.
“Hello, darling.”
I ran the tub water and stripped out of my clothes. It was pure torture waiting for the tub to fill, and I turned away from the mirror after catching a glimpse of the bruise on my back—a reminder of my failure. The small window on the wall with the shower brought in enough light, but I retrieved some matches and lit the square lanterns on either side of the sink.
Most people would have found the room basic and uninviting, but those people hadn’t spent the past two nights sleeping in a Dumpster.
Steam rose from the tub, and I slipped into the clean water, groaning at the blissful feel of that heat all around me. I took most of my showers in truck stop restrooms. Only on rare occasions after working odd jobs did I have money to spend on a motel room, and I’d forgotten the simple pleasure that a hot bath could bring.
I soaked.
And by soaked I mean I spent hours in that claw-foot tub, periodically draining the water and then turning it back on for more heat.
It was glorious, and I luxuriated in the exotic oils that were lined up on a small ledge in the wall.
Eventually I draped over the rim, resting my head in my arms. Maybe I’d wake up and this would have all been a dream. Or a setup. But for now it felt like heaven. Despite the balking I’d done earlier about sleep, I nodded off right inside that bathtub.
Clean. Warm. Safe.
And slightly mystified as to how I’d become so fortunate. Not that it would last.
Nothing good in my life ever lasted.
Chapter 5
When I opened my eyes, two things disturbed me. One, I had no idea where I was. And two, I was completely naked.
Disoriented, I looked about the dimly lit room, the candles burning low. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and rain drizzled onto the floor from an open window. I sat up and tried to recall how I’d gotten here. Sleeping hard will do that to anyone—especially when you’re exhausted and wake up in a strange place.
Ah, yes. Viktor. It was all coming
back.
I remembered the bath and touched my hair, the tousled strands now dry.
Had I really slept all day? A damp towel covered my pillow, and I rubbed my face, unable to remember even getting out of the tub. What if someone had carried me to the bed?
Perish the thought.
For all I knew, Viktor could have been a trader on the black market and—like the Pied Piper—this was how he lured people to his den of iniquity.
Hmm. No telephone.
I yanked on my black hoodie and a pair of jeans. Without central heating, an uncomfortable chill hung in the air, so I closed the window and spread a towel over the wet spot on the floor.
Staying cooped up was never my thing. Time to do a little exploring. I peered into the hallway, looking in both directions to figure out which way to go. The windows straight ahead overlooked the courtyard, but it was too dark to see anything. Every other lantern on the wall had a candle flickering inside, providing enough light to reflect off the glass and soak into the stone architecture.
Since it was raining, I opted against going in the direction we’d come, fearing I might lock myself outside on the balcony. I swung to the right instead, following the hall until it curved left. When the windows ended, I realized the house was bigger than I’d first thought and not at all shaped like a perfect rectangle. I passed a grand room on the right with tapestries spun from gold and exquisite furniture. That room had electricity, so I scurried past the opening in case someone was in there.
The stone floor chilled my bare feet, making me quicken my step until I found a staircase that led down. Remembering all the rooms, turns, and hallways seemed impossible.
I tugged on the drawstrings hanging from the collar of my hood, skulking in the shadows and searching for signs of life. The first floor was brightly lit, which led me to believe that people were down there.
A burst of laughter echoed from the end of a hall, and I quietly moved toward the sound of chatter. I entered a room through an archway and noticed a wall dividing that room from another. There were booths like you’d see at a restaurant, tucked against a series of arches on the short divider wall. Through the open arches, all I could make out in the dark room was a crackling fireplace.
As I turned left, I stopped dead in my tracks. Several people rose from a long wooden dining table filled with food.
I took a step back when one of them palmed a steak knife.
One man was a giant, and his upper and lower canines punched out in an aggressive display. His Chitah eyes were bright gold, and his predatory gaze made me flinch. It was like looking directly at a lion about to devour you for dinner. Aside from Christian, his was the only Breed I recognized.
I broke the silence. “I’m not sure if one of you was in my room earlier, but if anyone comes into my domain without explicit permission, I’m going to impale you in a way that will give you the very best idea of what it feels like to be a corn dog.”
A violet-haired young woman bubbled with laughter and then covered her mouth when the others gave her scornful glances.
Viktor rose from the head of the table and closed the distance between us. “This is our newest inductee, Raven Black.” He blocked my view and lowered his voice. “Come with me. You can’t be in here.”
“Can’t I?”
He seized my upper arm and led me out. “You’re not official yet. Until you’ve gone through our tests, you can’t sit with us. Those are the rules.”
The talking resumed in the dining room, and I wriggled out of his grasp. “What’s with all the candles?”
“Immortals rely on modern conveniences far too much. I find them to be a distraction. I don’t allow televisions, radios, or electricity in most rooms. This is a large house, and I’m a frugal man. I do not wish to pay thousands of dollars a month so you can leave a lamp on all night. I place electricity where it’s needed.”
We headed down a dark, narrow staircase, and he opened a door to an enormous gym filled with exercise equipment on one side and open space on the other. Unlike the rest of the mansion, there were overhead lights.
“Stay here while I get Niko.”
“Who’s Niko?”
But he was already gone. There were elliptical machines, treadmills, weights, and workout equipment I didn’t recognize. A long rope hung from the ceiling, and I even spotted jump ropes. One section of the wall displayed various weapons and target boards.
Between the estate and everything within, these guys were loaded. Either that or some of them came from old money. Maybe I could work for them just long enough to get a substantial amount of cash and buy a place of my own.
Viktor returned with a man following behind him. He looked about six feet with an average build of lean muscle. Aside from his black hair, which was wispy and long, what stood out were his almond-shaped eyes. The blue was almost colorless—like crystal waters beneath sunlight. He appeared to be of mixed Asian descent with strikingly handsome features, chiseled cheekbones, and skin as pale brown as desert sand. By the looks of his tight biceps and broad shoulders, he was also a man who conditioned his body as though it were a weapon.
Without televisions or radios, I could understand why someone would spend hours down here.
He turned his head in my direction and suppressed a smile. “She’s a girl.”
“How you can tell that I’ll never understand,” Viktor said. “Raven, this is Niko. Niko, meet Raven Black. She’s half Mage, and that’s why I’ve called you down.”
His brows knitted. “Half?”
“The better half,” I said. “Are you a Mage?”
He gave a short grin and inclined his head.
Viktor gestured toward my bare feet and chuckled. “You came prepared. I like that.”
“What’s this all about?”
“I take it that since you’re living on the streets, you’ve never had your gifts measured by the Mageri. Am I right?”
Measuring was something the Mageri did to document the gifts of a Mage brought in the legal way, which I hadn’t been.
Viktor stroked his trimmed beard. “We’re going to test your skills—both strengths and weaknesses. We don’t keep secrets in this house, and it’s important we know what your limitations are. Everything within these walls is kept secret, and that includes what you learn about others. Those who break the rules will suffer the consequences. Since you’re a crossbreed, we’ll start with your Mage skills and go from there.”
I cupped my elbows, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “I’m not sure about this. How do I know you’re not setting me up?”
“You know where the door is if you have second thoughts, but I’ll need to scrub your memory of us before you go.” He shook his finger at me. “We are as trustworthy as the Mageri, if not more so. What talents and weakness you choose to reveal to the public is your business, but under no circumstance will my men speak of them to anyone. The same goes for you. Do you understand?”
I nodded. “I have your word?”
“Da,” he said, replying in Russian. Then he turned and placed his hand on Niko’s shoulder. “Come see me afterward, Niko. Spasibo.”
As he ascended the stairs, Niko moved like a panther, circling around me. The way he watched me was strange.
“Do you have a last name?” I asked.
“No,” he replied, still moving. “In my time, we didn’t have surnames. We were known by our clan.”
My God, that meant this guy was one of the ancients. It didn’t matter that he only looked to be in his twenties or thirties. In fact, I couldn’t even place his age since there was something timeless and mysterious about his appearance.
“Is Raven Black your given name?”
“If you mean given to me by my Creator, then yes. Black is, anyhow. He let me keep my first name.”
Learners traditionally take the surname of their Creator since that’s how the Mageri tracks lineage. Creators are rare, and most of them are assigned their progeny from what I’d heard. Learner was one of t
hose titles I’d always hated and never went by on the account it applied to a newly made Mage still living with their Creator and going through training. My education came from the school of hard knocks.
“You didn’t have a good relationship with your Creator,” he remarked, moving out of sight.
I spun around. “How do you know that?”
He smiled knowingly. “Your energy. It tells me all I need to know.”
“I’m concealing.”
“True, I can see that. But you have emotional and spiritual energy that you cannot conceal or control. I can tell when you’re angry, when you are lying, when you’re nervous… as you are now.”
I backed up against the wall so he’d quit circling me like a predator. “How can you see that? I’ve never heard of a Mage being able to do that.”
His eyes remained on me in an absent way. “I’m blind, but I’m not so blind that I can’t see the truth.”
Chills danced up my spine. We didn’t retain injuries once immortal—not unless liquid fire was involved to seal the injury. Someone had chosen a blind human as their Learner. But why?
“This is a big house. How do you find the doors and get around?” I asked, noticing he didn’t have a cane.
Niko kept his hands at his sides, his tone clear and pleasant. “Most blind people count steps and keep things in the same place. There’s not much to trip on around here, and people don’t move furniture without letting me know. I do rely on that at times, but my unique gift allows me to live in your world. Almost everything gives off energy. Plants, animals, rocks, light, stars, even fire. Even things that you touch retain an imprint, like there,” he said, pointing to the floor. “I can still see your residual energy from where you’ve been. Enough about me. I want to learn more about you. Share your gifts with me.”
Gifts? That was a laugh.
“My Creator didn’t teach me anything.” I pushed off the wall and walked around him. “I can’t flash like a Mage, but I can sense energy. I haven’t tried healing since the time I knocked myself out for two days after pulling in sunlight.”
