A tiny frown creases his face. “You belong to vampires who would use you and spit you out.”
“Funny, they say the same thing about you. I have more reason to trust Skartovius, Vallan, and Garroway than I do you, Lukain.Youare my enemy. Why have you come here? You must’ve known how I would react.”
His eyes rove over my body, catching every pale inch of flesh from the waist up above the water. An expression of longing chases across his features. “I needed to see you again. I can’t stop, Sephania. I’m still addicted.”
“Then you’d better break your addiction, Lukain. I’ve already got three fiendish mates trying to conquer their demons. There’s no room for another.”
He opens his mouth to say something—thinks better of it. If I had to guess, he wants to ask how he can create room for another.
“I could scream and they’d come,” I say, hoping he doesn’t know I’m alone in this brothel with Garroway. I have no idea if Garro is strong enough alone to defeat Lukain Mortis—Overseer Verant—in his new station. They’re both dhampir, and Lukain has trained for battle his entire life.Skar defeated him though. I don’t suspect Garro is Skar’s equal, but maybe he’s strong enough for Lukain . . . because Truehearts know I’m not.
There’s a nagging at the back of my mind which angers me more than anything, even more than Lukain showing up unannounced after watching me escape Sutlis Spire mere days ago. Even now,still, after everything, I’m hopelessly drawn to this diabolical man. The demon on my shoulder tells me to give him another chance, for the thousandth time.
I simply don’t have the heart to allow myself such naivety or luxury. “My place is no longer beside you, the Grimsons, or any others in Nuhav,” I say. “It’s beside my vampires, and you are my enemy. You must understand that, Lukain.”
He nods glumly. “Then I will endeavor to do whatever I must to change your mind.”
“It won’t happen.”
His nostrils flare. “I’ve hated vampires my entire life, little grimmer. Just like you, deep inside, even if you don’t want to admit it because you’ve become corrupted by them. You have allied with a man who will ingratiate himself to the vampire overlords, inviting them to dictate our lives even more than they already do.”
“Skar won’t do that.”
“I’m offering you a way out, stubborn girl!” His outburst reverberates off the walls, and I recoil. “Apologies,” he mutters,shaking his head at seeing me jolt. “Come with me. Please. It’s not too late to start anew for us and build something mighty.”
“Itistoo late. We have never been what you think we are.” My voice shames me with its longing—its wish tobewho he thinks we are. Even now, after everything.
His eyes lock with mine, the pleading so evident in his gaze it hurts my heart. Finally, he gives me a small nod, looking away. “I won’t stop trying. You’re following the wrong men, Sephania. These are not the allies you think they are. Skartovius least of all.”
“Youmuststop. Because next time, my mates will be here to fight you.”
Lukain stares at me a moment longer. Once he moves for the door, he glances over his shoulder. “You haven’t asked Skar where he obtained his silver sword, have you?”
“If it’s really so important,” I growl, “then why don’t you just fucking tell me yourself?”
“Because I want you to hear the truth from him, little grimmer. If he’scapableof the truth. Then you can truly understand the kind of man you’ve allied yourself with.”
He exits the room and vanishes like a wraith before I can reply, leaving me to wonder why he’s going to such great lengths to resolve our conflict . . . and if there isn’t some kernel of truth to his words warning me about my vampiric lovers.
Part
Two
The vampire leans back in his seat, pleased with the first section of his work. He knows the importance of these writings and hopes the historical truth will find its way into the right hands.
“All in good time,” he mutters to himself, and then sits forward to lift his quill and dip it into the inkwell. A new piece of parchment finds its way onto his worn oak desk. He flattens the page, muses for a moment, and resumes writing.
“120 YEARS AGO,” he begins, deciding to script this new section in a similar fashion as the first. His pen moves rapidly then, painting the page in memories long past.
Within thirty years of the discovery of vampires hidden in the depths of the silver mines, the face of Haven changed. It isn’t long before the inner workings of the city drastically transform.
The wave begins at the bottom, starting with the miners themselves, who are turned by these vile seductresses into bloodthirsty beasts. The ripple effect moves to the foremen next, then the overseers and exporters, before eventually creeping its way into the very heart of Havian society: the gentry.
It must be noted: The wave of vampire infestations did not simply move laterally within the mountain city. It was a horizontal shift—a sweeping out of the invasion that reached the southern and northern kingdoms vying for control over the high mountain peaks fixed between their borders.
Nary ten years passed before both kingdoms were on the verge of crumbling. Long gone was the sense of everlasting prosperity from the shining city atop the mountains. The kingdoms fought with themselves, internally trying to keep the baying of the hounds from overwhelming them.
Alas, no society is ever safe for long from creeping death. Vampires cared nothing for the architecture of the kingdoms orthe landscape of Haven. Those who escaped the massacre upon the mountains fled south, creating a city of humans to defend against the vampiric incursion threatening them.
