As I round the corner to Little Death, two vampires clad in leather hover near the entrance. I turn my face to hide behind my hair.
“Vyvyan’s in a mood,” one of them remarks, and I slow to listen.
“She’s been in a mood,” another responds with a hint of exasperation in their voice.
The first vampire leans in, lowering their voice, “Yeah, but I heard her tell her guards to give her space. She never asks for space.”
With a shrug, the other vampire explains, “Vane’s missing. Again.”
A shiver racks my body, a cold dread settling in my bones. Has he truly abandoned the Nest? Is that why he said I would never see him again?
A sharp pang of longing pierces me, a painful reminder of what I’ve lost. I tell myself it’s for the best. Now, bound to him by blood, carrying a piece of him within me, his presence would be a constant torment.
I felt the truth in his words when he said he loved me, a fleeting warmth in the glacial wasteland of my heart. But I force myself to dismiss it. If his love were real, he wouldn’t have left. I repeat, I’m better off without him, even though his departure leaves a gaping void.
“Figures,” one of the vampires continues. “Those two have the strangest relationship.”
“I’ll say. She’s brooding over him in the throne room.”
Their laughter dances through the halls as they disappear into the club. I circle back to the throne room.
I find Vyvyan alone, perched upon her throne of skulls with her cheek resting in her palm. The towering flames in the large black clay fire basins behind her crackle and pop, casting monstrous images upon the walls. When she looks up, my steps falter.
Her eyes are red again. Vane must have turned her back into a vampire, which means the effects of consuming my blood can be reversed. Maybe this means she’ll hate me a little less.
“It’s good to see you looking like your usual self,” I say.
“You’ve got some nerve coming back here,” she replies through gritted teeth.
“We need to talk.”
Vyvyan raises an eyebrow. “I have nothing to say to you.”
As I approach her throne, I avoid the trapdoor to the Eurynomos’s lair. Just a few months ago, my brother stood on that door before falling into the pit to face the daemon for Zev.
“You will want to hear what I have to say,” I tell her.
Vyvyan glances behind me. “Where’s Vane?”
I shrug, ignoring the ache in my chest. “You’re his sire, so you tell me.”
Wait, is she? Technically, he’s her sire now.
Vyvyan clicks her tongue. “Watch your sass, Desiree. My guards will have you detained and dismissed with a single word from me.”
Despite my eternal loyalty and belief in her refuge for misfits, she has inexplicably despised me. But if I’m right about the Balam, I can prove my loyalty to her.
“I know who summoned Balam,” I say.
Vyvyan’s eyes narrow. “Trying to worm your way back into my good graces?”
I swallow my laughter. Good graces? She had me scrubbing urinals.
“I have no reason to lie,” I say. “I just want to come home.”
“I’m listening.”
“It was you. You raised the Balam the night of the blackout, and you staged the attack inside your bedroom.”
