I had more than enough money to buy whatever car I wanted, but that had never appealed to me. I preferred to see how long I could keep the old girl running. We’d been through a lot together and replacing her would’ve felt like a betrayal.
"This place is incredible," Sylvie said.
The way the truck had been dented up forced the both of us into the same dipped and grooved section as we sat on the hood. She made a small effort to scoot and leave a little space between our legs, but the angle of the bent metal kept making her slide back into me so our thighs were pressed against each other.
"You could join them, if you wanted," I said sourly. "The only price is never seeing daylight again. Having to suck blood to survive. You also get to choose from any of these assholes for friends, because you can kiss your human friends goodbye."
She grinned. "If that's your best anti-vampire pitch, it's actually kind of weak. I'm basically a forced recluse. I don't have any human friends to kiss goodbye. My only family is in there right now fighting for her life. And daylight? That's the stuff I see out my window but can hardly enjoy without worrying about getting sick."
"Vampires are..." I started. "They aren't people anymore. They aren't good."
"My sister is a good person." She said the words like a challenge, daring me to contradict her.
I felt my nostrils flare. She didn't get it. She didn't understand the kinds of things vamps did to people. The things I'd seen. "You wouldn't understand."
"Then make me. Try not grumbling and grunting about how bad they are. Explain to me why you hate them so much. Because unless changing literally makes them different people, I don't see how what you're saying could be true. If Maisey can become one, then they aren't all bad."
"They took my sister from me," I said. My heart was thudding then. I hadn't told anyone that. I hadn't even told Felix. He only knew because he'd known Kyla.
Sylvie paused. "Took her? You mean she's passed away?"
"No. They tricked her into becoming one of them. She had a wolf in her like I do. When our kind go over to their side, it kills the wolf inside us." And I’d promised my father in his dying hour that I’d protect Kyla. That meant her wolf, too, which was now erased from her by their fucking blood poison.
"Where is she now?" Sylvie's voice was quiet, almost a whisper.
I nodded toward Blackridge. "Somewhere in there, probably. She joined the rebels five years ago. Met some vamp, fell in love, and ran off with him."
"Am I missing something? Because that doesn't seem so bad."
"She killed her wolf, Sylvie. Imagine killing your sister to be with some guy. And I'm still not sure she made the choice on her own. Fucking vamps are always playing with minds. Our kind is resistant to it, but not immune."
Sylvie nodded. "What are you going to say to her when you see her?"
"She's dead to me. I have nothing to say to her."
Sylvie watched me with a frown but said nothing.
The damn woman just looked at me with sadness twinkling in her eyes, which was worse than any argument she could've made. She had such a goddamn innocent way of looking at the world. "Real life isn't like your stupid books," I snapped. I got up from the truck, folding my arms. "Stupid shit happens and it happens for no reason. Bad things happen to good people. The two who were supposed to get together usually don't. Do you get that?"
She looked right back at me, eyes blazing. "I'm not as stupid as you think I am. I get that. But it doesn't mean you have to assume the worst in everything. Maybe a little optimism would do you some good. Oh, and maybe some manners, if you've ever heard of them." She tried to hop down from the truck in a huff but her heel caught on the front bumper. She toppled forward and was about to faceplant.
I stuck my arms out, catching her.
She glared, then shook free of my hands. "I'll be in the back of the truck."
I shook my head as she stomped to the back of the truck and hopped up on the bed, fuming to herself.
Part of me was glad she thought she was right. I could still vaguely remember thinking that way. But there was only so much shit life could throw at a man before he'd be an idiot not to expect more. It wasn't about when the shit would come, it was about making the best of the moments between it. That was how I lived. Sylvie could keep believing her fantasy if she wanted, but I had a feeling reality was going to come bite her in the ass before long.
As if on cue, I saw The Prince come storming out of the mansion with his parents, Ana and Vlad, trailing behind
22
Sylvie
I hopped down from the truck, stretching my back. I was still sore and a little wobbly from all the time I'd spent in bed. I felt a little off, but I hoped it was just the aftershocks of my illness and not a new wave of symptoms setting in from my recent excursions. But being careful of germs was practically impossible when we were on the run like this. I was quickly learning to just cross my fingers and hope I'd be fine. Also, touching as little as I could inside Riggs' filthy truck helped.
Riggs was standing tall and looking toward something, which drew my eyes. Three people were approaching. The two in the back looked older. One was a stocky, somewhat burly pirate like man with curled mustaches and long wavy hair. He carried a little extra weight but had striking features either way. He was dressed in old fashioned clothes that looked impressively expensive.
The woman was tall, stern, and terrifying beside him. I couldn't say what it was, exactly, but I felt certain she could smear me across the truck with a wave of her hand. The thought sent a chill through me.
The man in front of them must have been The Prince I'd been hearing about. He wore more modern clothes, like an embellished version of the school uniform I'd seen people wearing. It had a raised collar and intricate red stitching accented along the sleeves and edges. He looked straight out of just about every YA vampire movie I'd ever seen. Pale, perfect skin. Proud, elegant features. Bedroom eyes with long eyelashes.
He stuck his hand out for Riggs to shake first, but Riggs just looked at it and crossed his arms over his broad chest.
Seeing the vampires next to Riggs emphasized how much of a brute he was. He was big and round with muscles where the vampires were lean and lithe. He was rugged and rough where they were smooth and sleek.
The Prince ignored Riggs' slight and reached for me to shake his hand. "You must be Sylvie," he said with no hint of an accent.
For some reason, I'd been expecting an accent.
I nodded, shaking his hand. It was a little cold, but not corpse-like, as I'd been anticipating. The Prince met my eyes, and I felt the strangest tingle in the back of my head, a little like being lightheaded but also like when your foot falls asleep. Riggs was beside me, physically pulling me back from the handshake and positioning himself between us.
The sensation in my head passed, and the Prince grinned faintly.
"Is my sister okay?" I asked.
"She is strong," The Prince said.
The pirate one behind The Prince stepped forward, giving a slight bow to introduce himself before he spoke. "We had several virgins on tap tonight. I'm sure she'll recover just fine."
"Uh," I said.
The dark-haired woman blinked heavy-lidded eyes, then looked toward the smaller pirate-like man with a small smile. "Vladimir. She doesn't know our ways. Put the poor thing's mind at ease."
Vladimir pulled at the curly end of his mustache, then shrugged. "When a human transitions to our kind, their body starts feeding on its own blood. Either introduce an outside source, or they shrivel up and die within a week or two. Your sister just needed a little shot of blood. And virgin blood is the best."
"It's actually not," The Prince explained with a conspiratorial smile. "My father is old fashioned. He has a hard time letting go of traditions."
"And my son is a blockheaded idiot who wouldn't know virgin blood from red wine." Vladimir accented his statement by grabbing the taller Prince's shoulders and giving him a little good-natured shake
. “Little shit gets a title, starts a rebellion, and suddenly thinks he knows more than his old man, doesn’t he?”
The Prince took it affably enough, but his expression hardened when he looked back to Riggs. "They tell me you're no friend of our kind."
"They tell you correctly. Want to know how many of yours I've put in the dirt?"
"That won't be necessary,” the woman said.
Riggs stepped toward the woman, eyes hard. "Tell me. Why are two of the most powerful vampires propping up their son and calling him a Prince. Hoping people will assume you're the King and Queen?"
"We didn't name him anything," Vlad said. "The resistance was born, and it named him the leader." He shrugged. "Not our fault if they have shit taste." He barked a laugh and slapped his son again on the shoulder hard enough to make him stagger.
The Prince looked to his father with an unreadable twist of his lips. Was that mirth or annoyance?
"Either way," The Prince said. "You can just call me Victor, if the titles make you uncomfortable."
"I don't really give a shit either way," Riggs said.
"Can we trust you to stay here without causing violence?" Victor asked.
"Can I trust your vamps to stay away from her?" Riggs countered.
My breath caught. I'd sort of forgotten I existed, but now they were all looking at me, and the longer the silence held, the more meaning seemed to come from his question. Don't be an idiot, Sylvie, I thought. He's just trying to make sure he completes his stupid job so he can try to extort money out of you. That's all this is for him.
"We don't pretend to control our students, staff, or friends," Victor said. "That's the essence of our rebellion from The Coven. We're all free people. Free minds. Individuals with thoughts, dreams, and desires."
“People,” Riggs said, twisting the word like it tasted sour.
Victor nodded. To his credit, he showed no sign of being bothered by Riggs’ jabs. “Our worlds have a long history. Part of what I hope to accomplish is finding a way to mend the hostilities. If staying here helps you see us as people and not monsters, then we’ll be happy to have you as a guest.”
Riggs looked like he was seriously considering punching Victor in the neck. I grinned a little. As much as his lack of tact and brutishness grated when it was directed at me, I had to admit I kind of enjoyed watching him at that moment. "Right. Well, tell your free minded individuals to keep their thoughts, dreams, desires, and hands the fuck away from Sylvie. If they can do that, you'll have no issues from me."
Victor didn't smile right away, and when he did, I wondered if it was genuine. There was something about the man I wasn't sure I liked. He seemed too calculated. Too smooth.
"Fair enough," Victor said, clapping his hands once. "I've prepared rooms for you. Given the Coven's interest in you, I'm obligated to advise that you and your friends don't wander beyond our grounds. For your own good," he added.
Riggs made no response. "For your own good, I'll advise that you don't tell me what to do."
Victor smiled as if Riggs had thanked him and shook his hand. "Enjoy your stay, Riggs."
"Fuck," Vlad said loudly when Victor turned and the three of them started to leave. "If that went much longer, I wasn't sure the virgin I had in the torture chamber was going to survive. I forgot to plug up a few holes I poked in him."
The woman made a disapproving noise, and then they were out of earshot.
"Asshole," Riggs muttered under his breath.
"For once, I agree with you," I said. "I don't trust that Victor guy."
"Congratulations. You possess at least an ounce of common sense."
I glared at his back as he reached in the truck to grab our things.
"Come on.” Riggs waved for me over his shoulder. “Our rooms await."
I looked up at the building again, then shook my head in disbelief. I'd literally stepped into one of my stories, hadn't I? A school for vampires? A werewolf bodyguard? Scheming vampire princes and warring factions trying to claim my life?
It was all so adventurous, but the only thing I could really think about was how badly I already needed to pee again. I guess that was the difference between real life and the books. Inconvenient bathroom breaks.
23
Sylvie
Riggs and I were led into the building by the man dressed in paint-stained overalls that looked terribly out of place in the posh mansion with its well-dressed vampire students and staff. Despite the grungy clothes, he had the upright, proper bearing of a butler.
"Casual Friday?" Riggs asked when the man introduced himself to us as Faraday, the groundskeeper. He had salt and pepper hair that he wore pushed back from a smooth forehead. Like most vampires, it seemed, he was above average in terms of good looks. I wondered if something about the transformation enhanced people's facial features, or if something about being good looking simply made them more likely to be chosen in the first place.
Faraday sneered. "Most of my day is spent crawling into godforsaken crevices, wrestling dusty old furniture, or cleaning shit from toilet seats. It's hardly work made for fine clothing."
"Who did you piss off to land this gig?" Riggs asked.
“I was a rival of Miss Black’s former lover. What began as a punishment became a passion,” he said, shrugging as he wasn’t bothered if we completely understood what that even meant.
I'd been gawking at the grounds while we followed, and I lagged a little behind. A group of three young men roughly my age were lounging on the stone wall surrounding the main building. One of them met my eyes and I felt that same tingling presence in my head. I found myself stepping in their direction before I knew what was happening.
Riggs was there suddenly, strong arm around my waist as he pulled me to himself. "Stay with me, Sylvie." He ducked his chin and tapped his temple, giving me a meaningful nod.
There was a tenderness I didn't expect in his voice or his touch. Both made me feel like I was about to melt, but I reminded myself not to give into his royal assholeness. Protecting me had about the same emotional value to him as cooking up a batch of fries did to a fast food worker. For the tenth time, I reminded myself not to be an idiot and tried to shove the interaction into the “not important” trash bin in my head.
But I didn't shake off his arm, which was pleasantly firm and wrapped around my back while his hand had a grip on the small of my waist.
"This building is four hundred years old," Faraday explained as we entered through the main double doors, which had to be at least fifteen feet high. The main entry was all wood paneled, hand carved luxury with a backdrop of gorgeous, but haunting stained glass. The images depicted what looked like fallen angels, crying women, and fields of bodies. "It has survived two fires, a near miss from a tornado, vandalism, and even a direct attack from a particularly angry pack of werewolves." He gave Riggs a lingering eyebrow raise at the last.
"Wasn't my pack," he muttered.
"All the same," Faraday said, gesturing for us to follow him up one of two curved staircases. Groups of students were moving about the building in what must've been a changeover period between classes. "The building has endured. My job is to keep it standing. I’ve repaired nearly half of the woodwork, personally restored several of the portraits in the smoking room and seen to updating many decorations and furniture pieces to be in keeping with the original style of the home. I’ve never had children, but I do have Blackridge. That means if you and yours decide to make a ruckus, it'll be me you're dealing with."
Riggs grinned. "Noted."
"These windows are original. Two hundred and forty-four years old. They were commissioned by Robert the White as a wedding gift for his misses. Of course she died before they were finished and he was beheaded by a town mob a year after that."
"Lovely," Riggs said. "You can spare us the tour guide act. Just show us where our rooms are and leave us be."
"Actually," I said. "I find it interesting."
Riggs sighed, but didn't stop Faraday when he j
umped back into explaining every detail of the things we passed.
"This wainscoting was actually done by Henry the Pink himself. Lived here three hundred years back and had a bit of a woodworking hobby. He cut the walnut trees, milled them, and did this all on his own for a winter project one year."
"Henry the Pink?" I asked.
"Working with your hands isn't the most respected pastime among vampires. It especially wasn't in his day. The name was intended as an insult from his fellows, but Henry took it on officially to thumb his nose at them."
Faraday grinned as he talked about Henry, and I gathered he had a fondness for the memory.
"Do students take classes here?" I asked.
"They do indeed. We have two hundred and twelve students at the present. That's including the two we lost last month when they ran afoul of the Brittlebark pack while on a school trip to the Alpines."
"What?" I asked.
Riggs grinned. "Brittlebarks are nasty bastards. They've got strict traditions, and it doesn't take much to bring them to violence. Vamps probably didn't bother looking into it before they made some offense."
"The vamps were two lovely young girls I was fond of. And they made an honest mistake that cost them their lives, Mr. Riggs. I'd appreciate if you didn't speak ill of the dead in my presence."
"I'd appreciate if we didn't need to be in each other's presence, too," Riggs said.
I had enjoyed his ornery nature with Victor, but I kind of liked this Faraday man. I elbowed Riggs in his ribs. "Behave," I whispered.
"The young woman could be a good influence on you, if you let her," Faraday noted. We had reached the fourth floor and he was now showing us down a long, carpeted hallway. "It's not common for your kind to take human mates, correct?"
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