The Shadows
They had tricks that regular vampires did not.
Wrath smiled with a blood thirst. “Maybe you haven’t met my ally?” As the King swept his hand to the side, he pointed at Rehvenge. “Do I need to make introductions?”
Rehvenge’s amethyst eyes were cold. “As the leader of my people, I am not without resources to call upon—and I assure you, we are more than capable of countering any attack that Queen brings.”
The symphaths, iAm thought. Jesus …
Wrath glanced around the room. “She wants a war? I’ll give her one—and I guarantee that a scorched-earth policy is going to look like a Sunday fucking dinner compared to what I’m prepared to do to her if she tries to take our boy.”
At that, all iAm could do was stand there and blink like a dummy.
God. Damn.
It was enough to almost make him feel sorry for that female.
SEVENTY-FOUR
When iAm materialized on the terrace of the condo at the Commodore about twenty minutes later, he found that the note he’d told Fritz to bring over was still Scotch-taped to the glass. He peeled the thing off, saw that it had been opened and read, and put it away inside his leather jacket.
Then he opened things up, and turned on some lights with his mind.
As the illumination flared, he blinked until his eyes adjusted properly. The cold gusts coming in fluttered the drapes, and even tipped a throw pillow over on the sofa. He did not shut the slider behind himself as he entered.
Taking off his jacket, he paced around.
His conscience was not at peace. Not at all. To have found his tribe, only to have them go to war for him and his brother? That was too much to live with. Yeah, sure, the Brothers were all big boys, and specially trained, and armored up the ass—and they had the symphaths backing them.
But people were going to die.
That was the nature of weaponized conflict.
Whatever the other solution was, he had to find it. Fast—
“iAm?”
As maichen’s voice registered, he wheeled around. “Oh, God, you’re here.”
Without giving the poor female so much as a hi-how’re-ya, he went over and dragged her against him, holding her hard. Even through all the robing, he felt her body, her warmth, her soul, and he drank that in, taking from it the energy he needed.
Pulling back, he removed her hood and clasped her head, bringing her in for a kiss. “Thank God.”
“iAm, what has happened?”
He took her hands urgently. “I need you to listen to me, and listen to me carefully. I want to take you somewhere safe.”
“iAm, I can’t go with you.”
“The Territory is not safe.”
She stilled. Frowned. “Whate’er do you speak of?”
Fucking hell, the last thing he needed was the reality that if he didn’t take care of the no-win situation with the Queen properly, maichen was likely to get injured or killed: Nobody was going to be spared if there was a war with the s’Hisbe—and after talking to Wrath and Rehv, he knew both of those leaders were prepared to attack the Shadows where they lived.
At midnight tomorrow.
“Things are happening at very high levels. The palace isn’t going to be secure enough—”
“Are we to be attacked? By whom?”
“I don’t want to go into it.”
She stepped back sharply. “What is wrong.”
At that moment, a figure came in from the hallway, a massive figure robed in black.
“Well, well, this is a surprise,” s’Ex drawled. “Princess.”
After a moment of confusion, iAm glanced over his shoulder at the open slider, wondering if a fourth person had entered the condo. Considering the way the drama had been running lately? Yeah, the Queen’s daughter absolutely could have shown up here for no good reason.
Things were that out-of-control.
“Have you not properly introduced yourself yet?” s’Ex said. “Would you like me to do the honors, Your Serene Highness?”
As iAm shook his head, he decided maybe there was another explanation: s’Ex had clearly lost his ever-fucking mind. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You mean she hasn’t told you?”
iAm looked back at maichen. “Told me what? She is a maid who took care of me.”
“She is your brother’s betrothed.” The Queen’s executioner came further into the room, stalking them both. “And under palace law, I am now required to kill you, because you’ve seen her face.” The male leaned in and dropped his voice to a stage whisper. “Although I’m thinking, considering the way you greeted her … that you’ve probably seen a lot more than that. Haven’t you. Unless you want me to believe that she’s meeting you here solely to pretend to do your laundry?”
Cold. Cold over his head, on his shoulders, across his chest, down to his feet.
iAm went instantly cold.
s’Ex was a lot of things, but one thing he rarely ever was … was angry. And the male was rip-shit pissed-off at the female who stood across the way from him, as if she’d put all of them into a situation that none of them were going to be able to handle.
If she’d actually been a maid? He wouldn’t have cared. The servant class was not valued above their ability to perform functions—s’Ex might have ordered her back to the Territory and sent her for some punishment, but he wouldn’t be this incensed.
Turning to maichen, iAm leveled his stare at her. In a perfectly calm voice, he said, “I am going to ask you once, and only once—and you are never going to get another chance to be honest with me. So take your goddamn time to think about what your answer to this question is going to be. Who. Are. You.”
As he waited for her reply, he thought back to one particular thing she’d said. At the time he’d taken the meaning in an opposite way. Now? He feared she’d been hinting at her truth; he just hadn’t realized it.
We’re equal, you and I.
No, she’d said, sadly we are not.
Princess Catra vin SuLaneh etl MuLanen deh FonLerahn stared into iAm’s eyes. Although his voice had been even to the point of relaxed, he was anything but. Fury seethed under his skin as he came to his own conclusion—and was obviously just waiting to see if she had the guts to reveal herself.
“Give us a moment,” she said to the executioner.
“I don’t think so, Princess.”
“You will depart this room and wait out there”—she pointed to the open door—“until I call you back in here.”
s’Ex’s eyes narrowed, a flare of hatred glittering out at her. “Don’t flex muscles you do not have, female.”
“And I advise you not to test me. You will not enjoy the outcome—or survive it.”
As she pegged him with a hard stare, s’Ex’s upper lip curled back, but she did not care. He was a killer and a very potent male, but he was, and always would be, ruled by the traditions of the s’Hisbe. That was what was not understood about him—he had never once killed or maimed without provocation. And she had long suspected that he gave himself unto her mother not out of love, but to provide a stabilizing effect politically.
Few would guess the true role he played behind the scenes—but she knew it, because she had eavesdropped for all those years.
And yet in spite of the sway he held and the influence he had at the palace, he had never tried to overthrow or even diminish her mother in any fashion.
Instead, he had always upheld their ways. Protected them. Nurtured them.
“Go,” she snapped.
With a curse, s’Ex turned and walked off. When he reached the slider, he muttered, “You have no idea what you’re dealing with, iAm. Have fun.”
Stepping out, he closed the door. And stayed exactly where she had ordered him to remain.
Closing her eyes, she tried to find the right words. She hadn’t slept at all during the day, but had wrestled with her conscience for hours. And when she had come here earlier, she had been resolved: She was totally and completely in love with iAm.
And knew that it had been a terrible mistake to take things as far as she had.
It was time to tell him … before he touched her. After that, she would likely to be too lost once again.
Clearing her throat, she said, “I am—”
“Actually,” iAm interrupted, “don’t bother. That little act you just pulled with him is as much explanation as I need.” He broke off and began to pace, dragging his hands over his head. “What the fuck were you thinking—”
“I did not mean for this to happen.”
“Oh, come on, Princess, like you slipped and fell on my dick? We both know that’s not what went down.”
She frowned. “I do not quite understand that phrase, but given your tone, I must ask whether such crudeness is required—”
“Are you kidding me?” He threw his hands up. “You’re betrothed. To my brother. And not only did you lie to me, you fucked me!”
Catra crossed her arms and glared at him. “Perhaps you would like to rephrase that to reflect the truth.”