I stood before the Council again, barely 24 hours after the Challenge was issued. I had showered and napped before calling them to the chamber.
Nial was sitting back in his chair, flipping through some inane human magazine once more. He had showered as well but had disappeared for a few hours. I’d had to wait for him before I could call the meeting.
“Back so soon, Gwynnore?” Lord Belshazzar showed no emotion.
“I trust you didn’t just gut him like a fish?” Lord Otto was definitely smirking.
“No, my Lords. I didn’t gut them. I resoundingly defeated the Challenge as Lord Cato had issued it.”
“Master Niallan, what say the Monitor of Challenge?”
He flipped a page. “She beat the snot out of it.”
“Could you please be a little less flippant?” Lord Otto sighed.
Nial pointed to the television monitor, and it flipped on. He never let the overlords forget his druid power. I watched as the current news came up, and the handiwork I had put in was on full display a moment later.
“Ginter, his fiancée, and a third unknown woman were found dead at his estate this morning. Preliminary reports from the police and the coroner’s office are pointing to a suicide pact the three made. A note left for Ginter’s brother stated that they could no longer handle living in a polyamorous lifestyle and hiding it constantly from public eyes. The note directs his brother, Paul, to take up the torch of justice and run for the seat in the Senate this coming fall. There is no evidence of foul play and the—”
A flick of Nial’s wrist and the screen shut off.
He closed the magazine and laid it on the table as he stood. “Monitor of Challenge is satisfied that the conditions of this Challenge were met above and beyond satisfaction.”
Nial snatched the magazine back up and walked away.
He was so damn arrogant.
“Candidate Gwynnore, we have heard the Monitor’s words,” Lord Pippin said. “Your remaining Challenge will be sent to you soon.”
I glanced at Cato. He’d said nothing. He only stared at me. I wondered if he had a clue how much I now knew. I nodded at the males and left the chamber.
Nial was standing just outside the door. “You’re not telling on him?”
“I’m in the middle of trying to win the crown. When I am the queen, I will have his balls in bronze. And I will make sure anyone who thinks he can defy the Vampire Laws loses his head over it.”
He whistled. “You are a royal snob.”
“That, you idiotic bastard, is the idea.” I marched away from him, flipping him one of my favorite fingers.
I headed for the kitchen to see if there was anything good on offer. After all the blood I had taken, I would have thought food wouldn’t interest me. But I was wrong. I was going to need a really long nap, too.
I meandered through the castle lost in my own head. As much as I wanted Cato’s balls in bronze, for just so many reasons, I was bound to those same laws. I was bound to uphold those same laws, and as queen, I would have to exemplify them.
Betraying the Laws was punishable by death. Immediate death. No judge, no jury. Vampires didn’t have the patience for that. We could sleep for a century, stalk our prey for weeks, but had zero interest in taking time to hear about why someone broke the law.
Even after centuries, I wasn’t sure I was sold on that.
I was, however, well versed in the law. How could I not be? I’d spent most of my life making sure I had every advantage in the world I lived in—and while the physical was important, so was the academic. The Law.
That throne would be mine. For so many different reasons.
I found a few odds and ends from someone messing around in the kitchen earlier. There were many gourmet cooks in the stronghold. That happened when food was a pleasure, and you had eternity to eat. But these dishes were Overlord Pippin’s signature blazing inferno wings, jalapeno poppers, and, oddly enough, crawfish étoufée. Since I had never been a big fan of scalding my mouth while I ate, I opted for a bowl of the étoufée.
As always, anything Lord Pippin cooked was amazing.
This was only melt in your mouth, not melt your mouth, too.
“Ayre dare, missus. You reckon I kin cook dat dere crawdads with sum mount of delicacy?”
My head snapped up.
Lord Pippin leaned in the doorway, black pants, white shirt unbuttoned, looking very much like he was out to seduce someone.
It had worked once on me.
I laughed. “My lord, you never lived in Louisiana, so I think you missed the mark on the accent.”
“What fun are you?” He shooed me away.
“It’s exceptionally delicious, and I wish I could cook like this.”
“You could learn. You have time.” Propping himself on his elbows in front of me, his eyes sparkled with mischief and a suggestive promise. “I could teach you.”
My lips twitched. “No offense, but I’m actually older than you, and I have never been able to figure it out. My specialty is burnt chicken ala overcooked pasta.”
He mimed being shot in the heart. “How do you not know how to cook pasta?”
“I have no affinity for it. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
The sparkle was back in his eyes. “Would you like lessons?”
“I should think the queen won’t have time for such things.”
His gaze fell to the tabletop. “Marcielle loved to cook. It was something she and I used to do for fun.” His gaze rose from the table, and I was surprised to see a tinge of red at the edges of his eyes. “If you are awarded the ring, you will need a hobby as well. Something to take your mind off the constant pressure of ruling these greedy, hungry, power-mad beings. It is not just this stronghold you will rule. It is all of our enclaves around the world.”
Chewing my last mouthful of the étouffée carefully, I studied him. I believed that was the first time I had ever heard him speak his queen’s name since her death.
“Lord Pippin, I have no hobbies. I have no use for hobbies. And you know all of this already. I have done nothing but prepare for the throne since the day I was shuffled off to live with Grandfather. There has been nothing since, and there will be nothing after.”
The red faded from his eyes. “You do not know what it is to lose that which you love.”
I could feel the anger in my very veins, and he must have seen it in my eyes. He took a shocked step backward. Watching his retreat, I growled, “You made the choice, Pippin. You chose to be king. You chose Marcielle. And you—”
I swallowed. So long ago, and I was still angry.
“Gwen, it couldn’t be.”
Working my jaw, I managed to keep the ‘pissed off’ under control. “You decided it couldn’t be. And you left me in the bed, alone and didn’t even bother to let me know why you even left. I had to hear it from Adelie.”
This was refreshing, finally telling the truth.
My hurt. My anger.
It was all there in my eyes as I stared him down.
“I am sorry. Truly. I never meant to hurt you.”
“Well, you did.” I rubbed at my forehead, my shoulders tightening in stress. “You were half the reason I chose to take my early Rest.”
“I was?” Honestly shocked, he blinked a few times.
My voice was barely above a vicious, angry whisper. “You abandoned me, Pippin. After my father had done that, and my grandfather was killed, and my grandmother died of a broken heart. I had no one but you. You kept me a secret and then left. I needed a break. From everything.”
“I’ve said I was sorry. I won’t do it again.” His jaw clenched, and his nostrils flared…unrepentant. “It was for the crown, Gwen. You’re no different than me. Don’t pretend you are.”
I let the anger go like blood running down a drain. Because, no, I wasn’t any different than him. Except maybe I would have told my lover what the fuck had happened. I growled a little under my breath and flicked him one last glare. He was still an asshole—an asshole I still cared for.
Being a friend was a pain in the ass.
He surprised me, changing the topic.
His head tipped to the side; his beautiful eyes considered my features slowly. “You know, you look like your mother.”
My shoulders stiffened, and my breath caught in my chest. I plastered a smile on my face, teasing, “How would you know? You were born fifty years after me. My mother died when I was seven.”
“Have you never been in his rooms?” A brow rose. “In your father’s rooms?”
I cleared my throat and set my spoon in my bowl. “Not since I was seven. Why would I have any interest in going into his apartments?”
“He has her portrait hanging in his parlor. There is a single hair clasp sitting in front of it. The simple hair clasp is worn and tired.” A deep contemplative sigh escaped the youngest overlord’s lips. “We live on long after those we pledge to love are ripped from us.”
Honest words tumbled out of my mouth without a filter as I rubbed my forehead. “I was a child. I lost my mother. I didn’t know what was going on. He sent me away and became king after her last breath.”
His nose twitched.
I analyzed my old lover, but I couldn’t understand the expression he wore. As he ducked his head down to scratch at his head absently, I added, “For centuries, I held the belief that her death was my fault and that’s why I was sent away. That’s why he rejected me. My grandfather was appalled at what I thought—no one blamed me for Alaine’s death. I wasn’t even on the same fucking continent.” I leaned forward and pushed the bowl at him. “Cato let a child believe she had killed her mother. I get the mating. I get the love and losing part of who you are. But I was a child. That’s why I’ll have his balls bronzed for breaking the law.”
Lord Pippin jerked his head up.
I mentally slapped myself.
I didn’t want to share what I had on Cato.
Narrowing his eyes, he didn’t break our stare. “There was no law broken by shipping you off to your grandfather’s. What are you talking about?”
I turned around from him, grumbling, “It was a sham.”
“Excuse me?”
Spinning back, I stuck my finger in the overlord’s face. I had my own set of brass balls at this point. “It was all a sham. The trial that Cato gave me was bullshit. It was a smoke screen. He has something going on that he’s not letting us in on. He used me to take care of his business, dirty business. And he’s breaking the rules. So I will have his head and his balls.”
“What rules?” he questioned simply.
Though Lord Pippin’s glare was intense, and I didn’t really want to reveal what I had on Cato, I also knew, as the overlords, they needed to know about broken laws.
“When I was at Ginter’s house, the vampire we killed was newly made. She smelled fresh, clean like she still had a lot of human in her. And with everything else that went on there, it is my best guess that she was Cato’s creation. You can’t go against the Council, even if you are on the Council!”
“Do you have proof that she was Cato’s?”
“No.”
“Of course, you don’t.”
“She withheld her memories. You know that only the strongest can do that. How could she be newly turned and be able to do that, unless she was made by the oldest of us? Someone on the Council. Since it was Cato’s devious plan, it’s a damn good bet that he turned her.”
“Speculation.”
I slammed my hand on the counter, cracking it. “Doubt it all you want. I know he’s up to something. He wants to rule the humans too, you know?”
Lord Pippin out and out laughed at me. “Humans? Who would want to rule the humans? They’re our food, Gwynnore. Food. You don’t rule food. You hunt it, you herd it. You don’t rule it.”
My temper was running too hot—again—at that point. I had to get away from him before I did something extra stupid. Leaning in, I let my eyes spark red. “Cato is up to something. His machinations have always been a problem, and you know it. You had to deal with him as your king at one point. You and Lord Otto. He’s a sneaky dick. Mark my words, he’s up to something.”
I turned on my heel and stormed through the levels of the stronghold, but I didn’t head to my apartments. I was too hotheaded to lock myself in. Instead, I chose to climb the stairs to the peak of the mountain. I pushed the too-heavy door open and stepped outside.
Bone-chilling cold whipped through me. I stared west in the midday sun, watching it play off the water of the fjords miles and miles away. Another thing that made being a vampire amazing: cold didn’t harm us. My skin didn’t even pucker, but I still didn’t enjoy it. The heat didn’t touch us either. My eyes adjusted steadily to the bright, warm sun.
I was almost to my last trial now, and I had no idea which of these overlords could be an ally. I thought Lord Belshazzar at first, but he had to abstain from nearly everything. Cato was a no. Cato had always been a no. Lord Otto appeared to be so neutral he made beige look like it was a radical faction. Lord Xenon was…well, Lord Xenon. My hope lay in Lord Pippin, which sucked in and of itself. The youngest and least influential of the five, he was still finding his place among the overlords.
I’d had high hopes for him as an ally.
And now I had no idea.
I would still need an ally on the Council—that hadn’t changed. With the strength of the power hungry there—physical, mental, financial, and emotional—as queen, I would need someone on my side. I needed them before I even reached the throne, and no one was stepping forward at all. Even Nial was being a perfect ass about all of this.
My temper started to cool to manageable, gone was the ‘grab him and drain him’ feeling I’d had before. I did actually want to cultivate the alliance with Lord Pippin.
Leaning against the rock, I folded my arms and stared out at the glinting Pacific. Being this high up had its advantages… from eighteen thousand feet, you could see very, very far, even without the advantage of vampire-enhanced vision. I needed this fresh air, this view, this time to myself. I needed to find my center. I had been used. I was discarded at birth and used.
And I hadn’t lied to Lord Pippin. Since I was a little girl, since my grandfather started teaching me the laws and the ways of the vampires, I had wanted nothing more, nothing else, than to sit on the throne and wear the queen’s ring, the Black Star, a star sapphire of a blue like the dark of night. I dreamed of that dark black-blue. I dreamed of that crown. Of the thrones. Of people respecting me, finally.
“I wish you were here, Grandfather. Not just your memories. But you.”
The wind howled, but there was no answer.