“I’ll give you a fucking tour,” he says, sweeping past me.
I wink at Del, spinning on my heel, but not before I savor his narrowing eyes and growing smirk.
Second and I walk behind Nerian, Charlotte and Emmanuel behind us, and Del brings up the rear. Nerian’s court is an array of judgment as we breeze out of the throne room, their faces screwed in assessment, like they can’t decide if their king has any intention of joining forces or not. And it’s red eyes all around, which means emotions are at an all-time high, good or bad.
Killing Nerian might be the easier task stacked up next to influencing his court into a new way of living. The Night Kingdom way is not for everyone. But we have had no problem ridding ourselves of problematic individuals over the years.
And I won’t hesitate to do it again.
Nerian’s long gait requires me to be on the verge of snapping to keep up with him in this heavy dress, but I don’t regret my choice. The ballgown and train takes up space and forces vampires to step aside and make way for me.
Which is entirely the point.
Guards peel back, bodies flush against walls as I sweep past.
“Let’s start with the army, shall we?” Nerian postures.
“Headcount?” Second asks beside me.
Nerian laughs haughtily, his voice echoing off marble as we wind toward the west wing. “I haven’t bothered to keep it recently. We’re in the thousands,” he says, waving a hand in the air as he leads us along.
The Night Kingdom has one thousand.
But our army is loyal, well-bred, and well-trained. Based on how I’ve seen Balor treat his soldiers, I’d say Nerian might not have a single loyal warrior in his arsenal. And there’s a lot that can go wrong when you can’t keep the devotion of your people when the killing starts.
Nerian leads us to his army out of the back of the stronghold, and we snap through the snow for about a mile before the sprawling structure of the barracks looms before us.
It looks like a prison, not a place for a legion.
I wonder if they’re chained to the walls in there, starved just enough to obey. I know I’d have to be.
Del steps in front of me, black cloak floating around him as he turns to face me. The set of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes have mine narrowing.
He’s warning me—I just don’t know what about.
But after his help with Christine and after he came to my rescue with Balor in the west wing, Del’s cautioning is duly noted, and my nerves spike.
“Be on your guard, Veya,” Nerian drawls. “I am king, but I can’t control the whims of everyone.”
Great.
Nerian steps through a stone archway, Del following, and I glance up at Second. The caw of crows echoes around us in the snowdrift, and flakes gather on my freezing cheeks. My best friend, the male who never shows fear, is laced with hesitation.
But I step a heeled boot over the threshold of the barracks anyway, following Nerian and Del into whatever this is.
To my surprise, the ground floor is empty, and our tour includes a series of vacant training facilities with blood stains no one bothered to clean penetrating stone and plaster. Outside of a few torches lighting the way, there is no warmth here. It’s cold and damp and eats at my bones.
King Nerian flings open a door and descends with Del into the underground.
I hesitate at the top of the stairs. This route will offer limited options for escape if we need it. The only exit is likely the one we’re winding down.
Images of half-starved vampires like Penny race through my mind, desperate soldiers willing to obey their king for their next meal. And it fires anger through me, heating my veins.
Charlotte threads her fingers through mine as Second positions himself at my back, and Emmanuel slips to my front.
Remaining calm is almost impossible as my fears prattle incessantly the further we follow Nerian into his army’s heart.
They could slaughter us right now.
