Puppet/Master (The Vale Chronicles Book 1)

by Joel Abernathy

  “I appreciate that, but there’s not anyone else,” Arden protested.

  Vox gave him a knowing look. “I’d be an idiot if I missed the chemistry between you and Harding.”

  “That was before I knew who he was,” Arden muttered.

  Vox shrugged. “I’m just saying, I’m not going to hold you back. But I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

  His words were far more stirring than they should have been. Arden had never considered himself a needy creature, but he couldn’t deny that as strange as the tenderness with which Vox and the others treated him was, there was part of him that found it appealing. Part of him that craved it, especially where the ghoul was concerned. “Thank you. For right now, all I need is advice on what to wear to a fairy party.”

  Vox chuckled. “Elan roped you into being his date?”

  “How’d you guess?”

  “Because I had the honor last time,” Vox remarked, looking him over. “I have a suit you could probably wear, but Dusk had some clothes delivered for you while you were gone.”

  “He did?”

  “He has a tendency to shower people with gifts when he feels bad,” Vox explained. “You’ll get used to it, and you’ll learn to use it to your advantage if you’re anything like most vampires.”

  Arden snorted, walking over to the closet. Sure enough, there were a few new outfits on the rack that hadn’t been there before. The only one that came close to resembling a traditional suit still looked more like it belonged in a play.

  “Something tells me you didn’t wear this.”

  Vox was watching him, amusement glimmering in his pale eyes. “White washes me out and feathers really aren’t my deal. But the fashion rules for human-adjacent creatures and ghouls are vastly different.”

  Arden groaned, but he didn’t have much of a choice unless he wanted to show up wearing one of Vox’s hoodies. The outfit didn’t look quite as ridiculous on as it did on the hanger, but it wasn’t much of an improvement. The high collar seemed to be made of some iridescent material that shimmered no matter which way it turned, hugging close to his neck before it flared out into a blaze of gilded white feathers on the shoulders. The smooth drape of the cape that hung down his back was a contrast to the snugly fitted jacket and high-waisted trousers that left little to the imagination.

  “I look like a peacock.”

  “Yes, but a very sexy one,” Vox remarked, reclining on the bean bag chair.

  Arden shot him a dirty look and turned back to the mirror. He’d take the armored clothing the elves preferred over the flowy, over-the-top garb of the fae any day, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to get out for the night.

  And to do reconnaissance, he reminded himself. He was going to find a way to escape, after all. No matter how comfortable Dusk and the others tried to make his prison, and despite the fact that he had more day-to-day freedom than he’d ever known in Eric’s house, this wasn’t his home.

  For the first time, the thought of escape was a double-edged sword. He somehow doubted he’d ever be able to persuade Vox to leave with him and even if he could, the treatment the ghoul would receive from the vampires was not something Arden would wish to subject him to.

  He told himself he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

  Vox came over, helping to fasten the buckles around his wrists that had perplexed him for a few minutes. “Here,” he said, easily adjusting the ties.

  “How do I look?” Arden asked, half-teasing.

  The look in Vox’s eyes was anything but joking. “Too good to be true.”

  Chapter 12

  Arden

  Arden found himself waiting by the door ten minutes past the time Elan had told him to be ready. It seemed vampires were universally late to everything, regardless of which world they happened to be occupying. Harding was the first to appear, dressed in an unexpectedly normal suit. Arden couldn’t help but admit that he cleaned up nicely, for a guard.

  “Where the hell did you get that?”

  Harding looked down at his clothes in confusion. “Half-off sale a few years ago. Why?”

  Arden groaned. “I was under the impression we were all expected to wear fae clothing.”

  Harding snorted. “That why you’re dressed up like a bird?”

  Arden narrowed his eyes, but before he could respond, Elan came to join them in a black-and-silver uniform only slightly more whimsical than Harding’s suit. He whistled, looking Arden up and down. “You’re really going all out with this distraction gig. I appreciate a man who commits.”

  “Dusk picked it out,” Arden muttered. “And I’m about to go change.”

  “Don’t,” Elan said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m only teasing. You’ll be right at home among the other pets.”

  Arden glared. “Pets? And here I thought the humans who took refuge in the veil were liberated.”

  “They are. Liberated and pampered.”

  Arden rolled his eyes. “Let’s just get going.” He glanced over at Harding. “Where’s your date?”

  “I’m security,” the man said, flashing the plasma gun on his hip.

  “Of course.”

  “After you,” said Elan, opening the door. It led out onto the same quaint street as before. Arden remained half-certain he’d end up falling into the void until he set foot on solid ground on the other side.

  The fae world smelled of flowers and something else faintly sweet, as he’d imagined it would. Most of the fae themselves possessed some faint yet intoxicating fragrance that flowed through their veins. Even though he was no longer a vampire, he could still pick up on it, just not as strongly.

  “A word of caution,” Elan said, linking his arm in Arden’s. The way the vampire pulled him close made it clear it was more of a threatening than a gallant gesture. “Escape from the fae world is quite literally impossible for you, and trying will only result in bringing shame upon yourself.”

  “Why would I ever want to leave?” Arden asked innocently. “Being the Brotherhood’s house cat is so stimulating.”

  The vampire smirked at him. “Just so we’re clear.”

  Arden turned away, ignoring him to take in the sights. The sky was the same pale blue it had been the first time he’d looked out and he found himself wondering if there was ever such a thing as night in this place of glowing wonders. He was also more than a little curious as to where the light was coming from, considering that the Vale existed within Teros’ crust, but that was another matter entirely.

  The entire city was filled with tall spiraling buildings that appeared to be made of semi-transparent crystal. The towers curled and stretched toward the sky in elegant points, and the plants around them were like none Arden had ever seen on Teros. It truly was another world, and now that he’d come face to face with its ethereal beauty, Arden could understand why wars had been waged on its behalf.

  Elan and Harding led him to the tallest building on the skyline, a glimmering lavender structure with four towers that stretched out proudly. There were no windows, but Arden could see the shadows of people moving through some sort of concourse that connected the towers at their highest floors. The closer they got, the easier it was to hear the soft swell of music coming from within.

  “The Prince’s palace,” Elan said, looking down at Arden as if he was enjoying the chimera’s reaction.

  Arden closed his mouth when he realized he’d been gaping. It felt like giving Elan too much satisfaction, even though he was as much of a foreigner in this world as Arden was. “And yet he lives in the void with a bunch of roommates.”

  Elan chuckled. “Believe it or not, the royal lifestyle has never appealed to him. That and Leopold is not allowed within the palace.”

  Arden did a double take. “Are you serious?”

  “There are expectations that even being the Prince’s mate cannot free you from.”

  “That’s rude.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with you,” Elan said. Harding b
roke away from them as soon as they came to the front gate and joined a woman wearing a uniform similar to his own. She was human, Arden noticed, or at least she appeared as such. Perhaps Praya truly was a sanctuary.

  Two male fae stood at the gate, their crystal spears crossed. The one on the left had his lime green hair tied back in a high ponytail while the other wore his bright red locks closely cropped to his head. Their elaborate armor made Arden feel slightly less overdressed. He didn’t miss the suspicion with which they both regarded Elan.

  The vampire flashed the glowing crystal around his neck and the spears split apart, allowing them to pass through.

  “You seem popular.”

  Elan snorted, leading him over the drawbridge that had been let down for the evening’s celebration. “Always.”

  The first floor of the palace was little more than an atrium leading up to the open sky seven stories up. Evidently, the fae didn’t have to worry about rain. There were two staircases spiraling around the structure with various guests lingering and chatting on the different levels as they sipped glowing fluorescent cocktails from crystal glasses.

  “Makes my brother’s place look like a dump, no?”

  Arden shrugged. “It’s a bit much.”

  The vampire laughed. “Come. The best thing about these gatherings is the food.”

  Arden was hungry enough to follow him over to a table filled with exquisite appetizers he’d never seen before. He was almost afraid to ask what kind of meat was on the kebabs, but he decided it didn’t really matter. Whatever it was smelled delectable.

  His plate was half full when he nearly dropped it at the sight of a massive gray tiger across the room. The beast was easily as tall as a Clydesdale and even broader, but the partygoers surrounding it didn’t seem remotely unnerved. When Arden noticed the thick diamond collar around the cat’s neck, he realized Elan hadn’t been joking about the other pets after all.

  “What the hell is that?”

  Elan followed his gaze to the tiger without so much as blinking. “That would be a shifter.”

  “A shifter?” he echoed. “That thing is a person?”

  “It can be, when it chooses. And I suggest you watch your language, because it can hear you.”

  Arden froze when the beast’s glowing silver eyes locked on him. The tiger lifted its head and turned to walk through the crowd with a swish of its striped tail.

  Great. So he’d barely been there for five minutes and already he’d made an enemy out of a shifter.

  “Surely you’ve heard of shifters.”

  “Of course I have,” Arden muttered. “I’ve just never seen one in person. I didn’t know they were that big.”

  “Not all of them are. Depending on their age and strength, they can take on various augmented traits of the species they shift into.”

  “Species? Plural?” Arden echoed.

  “Most of the shifters who live on the surface are only able to shift into one animal form, but those who manage to get to the veil are capable of two, even three alternates,” Elan explained. “Even mythical beasts.”

  “Such as?”

  “Dragons, unicorns, gryphons…”

  “Unicorns?” Arden scoffed.

  “Don’t laugh until you’ve faced off with one.”

  “I think I’ll pass,” Arden muttered. At one point, the idea of facing off against a powerful creature he’d never encountered before would have been a thrilling challenge. Now he felt like he was in danger of being taken out by a strong wind.

  It was probably ironic, but he’d never cared much for the concept. Especially not now.

  Arden realized just about everyone in the room was looking at them, even though few were willing to hold eye contact once they were caught.

  “You really did bring me here to deflect attention, didn’t you?”

  “Of course,” Elan said without a hint of regret. “Here comes the Queen now.”

  “Queen?” Before Elan could clarify, a woman with soft, peach-hued curls cascading down her bare shoulders approached them. Her vivid pink dress was cut so low Arden could see her navel, but it had long sleeves and a big fur ruff that wrapped around her neck. She was surrounded by a pastel posse of androgynous beings who looked like they’d all come down from Mount Olympus to pay the mortals a visit. There were five of them in total and Arden couldn’t help but feel like it was an invasion.

  “Your Majesty,” Elan said, bowing gracefully before the beautiful woman. He took her hand when she extended it and brushed his lips against her smooth, pale skin with all the sensuous reverence of a court siren. He followed up the formal address with something in Prayan, the fae’s native language. Arden couldn’t understand a word of it, but it sounded like poetry on the man’s lips.

  The Queen’s sculpted cheeks flushed. Whatever he’d said had clearly impressed her. Or scandalized her. Perhaps both. “I see you haven’t changed at all, Elan. I hope that the Brotherhood is treating you well.”

  “Of course,” he answered. “Please, allow me to introduce you to my date this evening. Arden, this is Wysteria, the Queen of the Vale.”

  “Your Majesty,” Arden said, bowing to her. It didn’t feel like a betrayal, considering that he was technically undercover.

  Her silver eyes danced with curiosity as she studied him. “I’ve heard much about you, little one. I must admit, you are not what I pictured the favorite assassin of the Master of Ark would be.”

  Arden smiled. “I get that a lot. But in all fairness, I was far less mortal when I held the position.”

  She gave a musical laugh and the friends—or servants—around her seemed to relax. “So you were.” Her gaze flitted over to Elan. “And here I thought I was going to have to exert my authority as Queen to get a peek at him. Does my son know you brought him here?”

  Son? Arden felt silly for not immediately assuming the queen was Dusk’s mother. Now that he was looking for similarities, they had the same regal nose and high cheekbones.

  “Not yet,” Elan said with a mischievous wink.

  “You devil,” Wysteria gasped, giving his arm a playful swat. The delight in her expression made it clear the move was a strategic one. Now it made sense to Arden why Elan had asked him to come. He was a present for the Queen, and for whatever reason, Dusk had wanted to keep him from her.

  Arden just wasn’t sure who he trusted more: the man who’d kidnapped him, or the one who offered him a glimpse of freedom for his own mysterious ends.

  “Your curiosity is as legendary as your beauty,” Elan remarked. The line would have sounded like flattery coming from anyone else, but he had a way of making even the most syrupy praise sound sincere. To be fair, the Queen was one of the most beautiful people Arden had ever seen. Now he knew where Dusk got it from.

  “I was wrong. You’re not a devil, you’re a scoundrel,” Wysteria said dryly. The amusement in her gaze made it clear the accusation was half-hearted at worst. She looked down at Arden like she was unwrapping a present. “My,” she whispered, reaching out to brush her cool fingertips across his cheek. Her pointed nails grazed his skin and her powerful energy made him shiver. “He really is just brimming with Chrysalus, isn’t he?”

  “I’ll take your word for it,” said Elan. “But his blood is certainly unique.”

  Arden frowned. He was used to being objectified, but he didn’t appreciate being spoken of as food.

  “I’m sure it is,” she said, her gaze flickering over Arden appreciatively. She wasn’t the only one. He hadn’t missed the fact that the other fae were all giving him the same look he’d once given his prey. He recognized lust that went beyond the cravings of the flesh. Power was a far more compelling reward than pleasure to most, and a chimera held the promise of an abundance of both.

  Just as he was beginning to think coming out with Elan was a mistake, the sound of Dusk’s voice filled him with an unexpected amount of relief. “Mother?” The Prince strode toward them, his long blue coat brushing against the floor. He was a
breathtaking sight with his thick rose hair pulled back in a loose braid that thumped against his decorated chest as he walked. His tall boots shone pristinely and the simple golden circlet on his forehead left no room to doubt his royalty--as if it wasn’t already beyond questioning.

  The Prince stopped and looked between Elan and his unexpected guest. The way his violet-red eyes hardened, Arden knew his presence was anything but wanted, but all Dusk’s anger seemed to be directed at Elan. “What is he doing here?”

  Arden had never heard him use such a curt tone. Even his energy, usually tranquil and soothing, seemed stormy and chaotic that night. It was such a different side of him that Arden wondered if he’d been in a mood long before their arrival.

  “I was permitted to bring a guest, no?” Elan asked innocently.

  “Don’t be rude,” Wysteria scolded. “Elan was kind enough to introduce us, which is something you should have arranged when he arrived.”

  “I told you I would arrange it in time.” Dusk’s voice was respectful but stiff. He cast an absolutely venomous glance in Elan’s direction, but the vampire seemed immune to it. “Had I been asked, I never would have given permission for him to be paraded around a room full of fae like a trophy.”

  “Now you know why I didn’t ask,” Elan quipped.

  Before the fight could escalate, the fae who’d gathered around the Queen scattered, and Arden wished he could join them.

  “Forgive my son,” Wysteria said to no one in particular. “He’s always been a bit dramatic.”

  Dusk’s lips pursed. “Arden is under my care. I don’t appreciate him being moved without my consent is all.”

  “I’ll be certain to consult you next time, Your Majesty,” Elan said dryly.

  “There won’t be a next time,” said Dusk. “You are not to guard him again.”

  Elan smirked, but he didn’t look away from the male fae’s gaze. Arden didn’t know much about fae culture, but he certainly knew enough about vampires to know it was a show of disrespect.