Get some sun.
Stay out of the sun.
A landslide of contradictions buries me, and I shake my head, trying to fling them away and see clearly for once as I speed back to my friends.
I reach the main room and plow my way toward Maia and Arran. Wade already left. Danica’s gone now too.
“Can we go home?” I ask, poised to sprint out the door. “I think I had one too many brews and need to rest.”
They both get up immediately. “We were hoping you’d say that.” Arran drops a handful of coins onto the table, covering the night for all of us and then some. “Not about having one too many, but about going home.”
I nod, darting a look at the dark-haired, dark-eyed vampire who emerges from the back of the tavern. From a distance, I can take him in better. His clothing is truly impeccable and screams prosperity without anything ostentatious to pull him toward a garish display of wealth. His physique is flawless, tall, muscled, and strong. I don’t want to think he’s attractive, but he definitely is, with his marble-cut jaw, thick brown hair, and brooding eyes.
I yank my gaze away before he sees me watching him. A Fanghaven vampire who looks like that shouldn’t have to lie just to get a taste of blood.
“Do either of you recognize that vampire?” I ask quietly, nodding subtly to show them who I mean. “He followed me to the washroom.”
Looking over, they both suck in a breath. “Bloodpit,” Maia mutters.
“What?” My heart dives straight off a cliff. “Who is he?”
“That’s Rexton Hale, the pretender to the Fanghaven throne.” She shields me from his view, turning back to me with worried eyes. “The one always trying to get in on Ellonrift Councils and take Fanghaven’s vote back from Rannigan Bloodthief.”
I blink stupidly at her. I don’t think it’s the brew. “The cousin who survived?”
“Did he talk to you?” Arran asks warily. “What did he say?”
“He wanted to drink my blood.” Numbness rushes through me, with a chill so deep it freezes my bones. “But he stayed civil.” Thank the stars.
“Let’s go.” Her face thunderous, Maia urges me toward the door. I let her push me in front of her. Arran takes up the rear.
We burst into the street, leaving the loud, stuffy tavern behind. The cold night air shocks a shudder from me, and I rub my bare arms. “How do you know who he is?”
“He shows up every time Bale hosts the Ellonrift Council—uninvited, as usual,” she says. “He wants the Council to legitimize his claim to Fanghaven and its vote.”
So that’s how they recognize Rexton Hale and I don’t. He’s only been here when I’m gone. “Why won’t Bale listen to his claim? Wouldn’t it help?”
She shrugs, her puff of breath visible in the lamp-lit air. “Bale shuts him out, just like everyone else. But that doesn’t stop Hale from hanging around Drayke and Drayke Mountain all week.”
“He’s a little early.” I shiver, wishing I had a cloak. “I guess to see me.”
“Why would he approach you?” Arran asks. “He could get blood from almost anyone.”
“He said he heard how good I taste.” Chilled and covered in goose bumps, I hug my arms around my chest. “I guess a few of those vampires escaped and told the tale.” I can’t imagine what importance I’d have to Rexton Hale other than him wanting to gulp down some of my drug-like blood. But why offer up dubious information in return?
Stay out of the sun. The taste of the forbidden light will fade in time, and you’ll be safer.
Bale tells me to get some sunshine.
Rexton Hale tells me the opposite.
“I’m not surprised a few got away, but they’d better not start coming into Torridaig to find you,” Arran growls.
Fear ripples through me from top to bottom, more relentless than ever. “One already did.”
“He’s different,” Maia says in a steady tone meant to reassure. “Very controlled, and he knows what he wants.”
“Fanghaven?”
