Chapter One
The only light in the sky was the moon. It was full and round. Pregnant. If she peered close enough, Rachel could almost make out the image of a baby in the dark spots on the glowing orb. Her heart pounded against her ribs and her mouth was dry as she gazed upward, her eyes bright as she searched the moon, as if it could confirm she had made the right choice. A gentle breeze blew through her long, dark hair.
"This is it," she whispered, hardly daring to break the silence. She tore her gaze from the sky and scanned the area around them. They would be coming soon, eyes glowing in the inky black. "As soon as a cloud moves over the moon."
Beside her, her younger sister, Leila, scowled fiercely as she shifted. She flipped a coin nervously through her fingers, making it disappear from one palm and reappear in the next. "I hope you're right about this… scratch that, I know you're right. I just hope you know what you're doing and that your visions haven't blinded you."
Rachel allowed a smile at her sister's growl. It was a calculated risk, after all. Visions couldn’t always be interpreted exactly. Precognition was a rare magical gift, especially among witches with only minimal training, like her and Leila. If things happened the way she thought, they would never see the surface again.
But humans were becoming more and more aware of the magic in the world around them, and it was only a matter of time before the sisters were caught and locked up. Going underground was the best choice. Even if Rachel didn't know exactly what was waiting for them below, she knew enough.
"I can't just stand around waiting for them to take us," Leila said abruptly, shaking her head. "They're vampires, for Hela's sake. This is a bad idea."
"Hela's sake?" Rachel arched a brow at her sister. "Since when have you started worshiping the Norse gods?"
"I haven't. But I certainly don't worship any asshole named Pete."
Rachel laughed. She dug into her backpack and pulled out a kindle reader, handing it to her sister. "I got a bunch of those comics that you like. I thought it might help relax you a bit."
Leila made a noncommittal noise in her throat and plopped down on the bridge, bracing the kindle against her knees. Rachel lifted her face back to the pregnant moon, watching it. Unconsciously, her hand drifted to her stomach. What would it feel like, to be full of life?
She closed her eyes, trying to remember the vague impressions she had got from dreaming of a baby inside her. The dreams had been getting stronger lately, and she knew tonight was going to be the night. She was going to meet the man she already loved. They would be parents within the year.
It was difficult being patient when she wanted it so badly.
When Rachel opened her eyes again, her heart stopped. The lights along the path around the lake had all gone off and the sky was black. Dozens of stars along the lake level blinked on and off, drifting closer to the sisters.
Fear rose up Rachel's throat, choking her. Even though she had known this moment was coming, had lived it dozens of times in her dreams, now that it was happening, she couldn't stop the tendrils of doubt curling around her heart. What if she had interpreted her dreams wrong? What if the future had changed?
"Leila."
Her sister looked up and jumped to her feet, clutching the kindle tightly in her hands. She cursed when she saw the eyes surrounding them.
Rachel took a deep breath. "Put the kindle back into my pack. We don't want to lose it."
She stood still as Leila did as she said, and then the sisters joined hands. Rachel could feel Leila shaking, and knew she was fighting to keep herself from lashing out. She was used to finding a way out of a situation and worrying about consequences later. Rachel always took her time to assess and plan. Both strategies had gotten the sisters into trouble in the past, and both had gotten them out of trouble as well.
Was this one of those times when Rachel was getting them into trouble?
"They're not running," a voice right behind her said. "Odd."
Rachel jumped, just stopping herself from screaming, and turned. She couldn't see anything of the man who had just spoken expect his glowing blue eyes.
"We don't want this one, anyway," another voice said, and strong fingers pinched her arm. "Her blood will be useless. The king has to watch his cholesterol, after all."
Leila snarled. "Forget this!"
Rachel opened her mouth, but Leila had already ripped her hand away. Fire coated her sister's hands, illuminating a dozen men surrounding them. There were a few cries, but even as Rachel started to shout at Leila to put out her magic there was a sickening thud. The light went out and Rachel felt Leila collapse beside her. An arm wrapped around her throat, choking her.
"Witches," the vampire holding her hissed.
"Bring them," another, deeper voice said. "And whatever you do, don't taste their blood."
The arm tightened around Rachel's neck. She struggled instinctively, but the glowing eyes staring at her were fading. Her lungs cried out for air, and then there was only darkness.
***
When Rachel woke, she found herself lying on a thin mattress directly on a cold, stone floor. Her head hurt, but the familiar black walls around her had her sighing in relief. This was the vampire palace, and soon they would be taken to see the king. Her heart sped as she pushed herself to a sitting position. Leila lay on a mattress similar to hers nearby. From the dim fluorescent light overhead, Rachel saw some dried blood on the side of her face.
Her eyes were open, though, and she shot Rachel an annoyed glance. "You didn't mention that I’d get knocked in the head."
"You wouldn't have if you hadn't started threatening them."
Leila shrugged. "How long do we wait now?"
"I don't know. Time doesn't really mean much in visions." Rachel sighed, rubbing her temples. "Do you need to be healed?"
"No, I've already healed myself."
That sounded like a good idea. Rachel closed her eyes and dropped her chin to her chest, focusing on the aches in her body. She called the magic that pooled in the center of her body, drawing it through her veins and to her injuries. The dull ache in her head disappeared.
The door opened and four vampires came into the room. Rachel had to stifle a gasp–even though she knew what they looked like from her visions, seeing them in person was something completely differently. These vampires were broad-shouldered and bare-chested to show off their impressive muscles. All were so pale their skin was almost gray, and their hair was long and pulled back into braids down their backs. One of them had a whip secured to his belt.
"No funny business," this one warned the sisters, reaching for Leila. "Witch blood might be deadly to vampires, but that doesn't mean we can't snap your necks like twigs. Behave yourselves and you won't die."
"Get your hands off me," Leila snarled, as the vampire grabbed her. "I'll walk."
Rachel was already on her feet. She twisted her hands. They were being taken to the king now. At least she hoped they were. Her eyes flickered between the four vampires that stared at them, and she stepped over to Leila, taking her hand.
"We came to you willingly. You don't have to threaten us."
The vampire with the whip snorted but nodded to the other three, who surrounded the sisters and ushered them from the room. There were no lights in the corridors, and when she stumbled, she allowed one of the vampires to grip her elbow to help her walk. From the hiss and thump that came from Leila, she was being a little more stubborn.
After what felt like hours navigating the dark corridors accompanied only by glowing eyes, Rachel saw a light. She started walking faster, impatient to finally embrace her destiny. The vampires chuckled a little, but they picked up their pace as well. Soon they emerged into a well-lit chamber.
Rachel blinked as her eyes adjusted, ignoring the golden decorations and the brightly-dressed attendants. She even ignored the dozens of young women huddling together on the floor, some weeping openly. Her gaze briefly dwelled on the king before she swiveled, searching the chamber, looking for him. Her vampire.
Henry.
He was nowhere to be seen, and disappointment crashed into Rachel.
Patience, she chided herself and glanced at the huddled women. At seventeen, Leila looked like she was the youngest. Rachel was the oldest at twenty-one. The sisters were also the only two with dark hair. All the others were varying shades of blonde. One redhead stuck out of the crowd and Rachel broke away from her escort to join the trembling girl, Becky. They would become good friends.
"This is the harvest, my lord." The vampire with the whip bowed to the man sitting on a golden throne.
Rachel pulled Becky to her feet, putting an arm around her waist, and looked at the vampire king. He was bigger than the other vampires, with wheat-gold hair and blazing blue eyes.
He focused on Rachel and a disgusted look twisted his face. "And what is that? Did I not say I only wanted great beauties?"
Rachel scowled at him. She might not look like the blonde supermodels who were huddled on the floor, she might carry extra weight around her midsection and arms, but she carried it well, and she was hardly hideous. She raised her chin in defiance.
"A witch," the first vampire said, sounding nervous. "She and her sister both. It's always better when they're brides, rather than put into training."
The king's eyes narrowed and he shrugged. "If any of the Elite want them, they can have them. Otherwise, they'll be put into training. Where is my son?"
"Here, father."
Rachel shivered at the familiar voice that spoke behind her. Her heart pounded. She wanted to turn but suddenly felt overly shy. What if her dreams lied to her, and the future she was counting on didn't happen? What if Henry didn't love her the way she had grown to love him?
The king stood, gesturing, and a vampire dressed all in black strode through the gathered women. A scowl marred his brow and he didn't look at any of them as he passed. Rachel tensed, staring at him, but he didn't turn in her direction. He came to the foot of his father's throne and bowed. He had the same golden hair as his father, and his skin, while still pale, was not quite as pale as the others around him, indicative of his still-beating heart.
"My son," the king said, standing. "You have the honor of having the first pick of these new brides."
Henry's scowl deepened.
"Your last bride is old and will die soon," the king added in a gentle tone. "Take a look at this year's harvest and pick the three you like best."
"Father, I don't need brides who have been kidnapped from their homes," Henry muttered. "This is a barbaric tradition—"
"One you can change once you are king. For now, you are my subject and will not insult me." The king's voice took on a hard edge. "Three brides. You can seduce them at your own pace after they are in your chambers, but you will choose."
Henry's hands clenched. He turned on his heel, barely giving the women a glance. His gaze lingered on Rachel, Leila and Becky. His eyes narrowed, then he pointed at them. "Those three."
The king's brows rose. "Those?"
"I'm tired of blondes," Henry said, sounding bored. "And I like how the little one is glaring at me."
"I'll do more than glare," Leila muttered fiercely. "If he tries to touch me, I'll rip off his—"
Rachel shook her head, cutting her off. She thought Henry had heard Leila's whispers, though, because a smile tugged at his lips. He looked at Rachel again and a puzzled expression crossed his face. Her heart leaped to her throat. She wanted to taste his lips on hers so badly…
"Are you certain you want those three?"
"Yes, father. Can I take them now?"
The king frowned, but nodded. "Do as you wish, Henry. But the two dark ones are witches. Don't drink their blood."
Henry's gaze swept down Rachel with renewed interest. He nodded. "Understood, father."
He strode towards them, and Rachel stepped forward, meeting him. Her heart flip-flopped in her chest and a smile grew on her face. Henry. At last. Her Henry. She had wanted so long to see him, to be near him, that she couldn't stop herself. The moment he was close enough, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself to her toes, planting a firm kiss onto his lips.