From the moment I woke, her eyes haunted me.
Bright blue, like the waters of my home in Kysol and just as deep, framed by silken blonde hair that shone like the sun I would never see again.
Adrienne Valois had all but ripped my heart from my chest in those few stolen moments last night. I’d lost any sense of decorum, ignoring the youthful vampire at her side who so obviously sought out my approval. She had been a vision on the dance floor: pale skin glowing with magic, full pink lips tipped up in a smile. I wanted to know what it would feel like to hold her in my arms, to be so close to that light.
If I burned, I would take the fire every time.
Jules had been my saving grace, stopping me from smuggling the witch into some darkened corner where I might have learned how to make her smile like that again—where I might have learned if the delicate scent of wildflowers around her was as delicious on her skin as it was on the air. And when the young vampire had spoken of private places where Mademoiselle Valois mightattend to his needs,as if she was not the goddess of the dawn herself? I’d been close to setting a pyre at his feet. The only reassurance I had was that she was under the Searahs’ charge, and Jules took care of her givers like no other.
I rose from my coffin, straightening my trousers and tunicbefore stepping onto the window ledge of the ruined castle and shooting into the sky. Like many older immortals who lived through the Great Purging, I knew better than to keep my resting place in the home I opened to guests. But it took only moments to arrive on the balcony of my estate, pushing forward my magic to unlock the double doors.
If the goddess blessed me, shortly Mademoiselle Valois would be here. I took a deep breath to quell the excitement of all I wanted to show her. Instinct told me she would love the music room and my fingers itched to dance across the keys of the brand-new pianoforte I’d purchased. Already a melody weaved through my mind, outlining the memory of her face, the sad sweetness in her eyes.
The closet door clicked open as I approached and dressed in the usual finery of this time, though often I found myself impatient with so many layers. But it would be what Mademoiselle Valois would prefer: to meet with a male dressed as a gentleman, rather than the ancient Kysol warrior I had once been.
By the time I’d smoothed back my hair from my face and tied it in a sapphire ribbon almost the exact color of her eyes, the carriage was making its rumbling path down the road to my estate. I ran a hand down my soft gray waistcoat, soothing the nerves roiling in my stomach. Thousands of years old I might have been, but in this moment, I was as giddy as a schoolboy.
I made my way through my home, choosing to open the front door as a mortal might, and stepped into the cool night air with one hand loosely in my pocket. But the smile fell from my face when a familiar heartbeat tapped out its rhythm, unaccompanied by another within the carriage. My usual driver, Ralph, slipped from the bench but I waved him off, getting the door myself and offering my hand.
“I’m sorry, Eamon,” Jules murmured, leaning on me a little as she stepped down to the pathway.
Her olive skin was paler than usual, the hollows beneath her eyes a bit more pronounced. I tucked her hand into my elbow and guided her toward the door. Solange had passed only a few months ago and the loss had destroyed Jules, though she tried her best not to show it. In a family like the Searahs, a matriarch passing left a hole only time could fill. When Solange’s mother had died it had been the same. Angelique’s death had left Solange colder, sharper than before.
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell Jules I did not need apologies, yet when I opened my mouth, my fear tumbled out instead. “She is exclusive with the fledgling?”
Jules shook her head, smiling gratefully at Bernard, my head housekeeper, who appeared from the shadows to take her heavy shawl. “No, she is not.”
Relief swam through my veins.
“However, she is fearful.”
The relief balled into a stone that dropped into the pit of my stomach. I had come on too strong.
“I’m afraid you did,” Jules answered, picking the thought from my mind, or the tenor of it at least. Her clairvoyance was imprecise at times and yet still more powerful than most mortals her age.
I scrubbed a hand over my face as we settled in one of the many parlors, though I’d made sure not to choose the one where Lord Montag hadseen to his needs. In fact, the only way to cleanse that room might be with fire.
“Adrienne is a beauty, to be certain, but she is no fool. Do not underestimate?—”
“I would never,” I cut across, a growl in my tone.
Perhaps that was how others treated Mademoiselle Valois, but I would never be so callous as to assume such a thing about her. Though her beauty called to me, it was what laybeneath I craved to crack open. There was a startling depth, a sadness, and a sharp intelligence as tantalizing as the curve of her lips.
I wished I could understand the draw I felt toward the witch. Typically, one knew their blood mate’s identity the moment they scented them. Though I was enraptured with her, a mating bond had not snapped into place. The wordmatedid not chant through my mind or scream from my soul. But I wished it would—it would make things so much easier.
We sat in silence while Bernard offered Jules a cup of tea. I let my attention wander around the room to the lush textiles and shining candelabras. Meaningless, the lot of it. Merely another piece of the costume I wore in the charade I played, as all vampires did. The posturing amongst our society made my head spin. I found myself more and more wishing for the old days, when there had been no desperate grab for power. When my maker had been the beginning and ending and everything in between.
But not any longer.
“Tell me what to do, Jules.”
She pursed her lips, cradling the gilded cup in both hands, the liquid sloshing with a small tremor. “Be patient. It is time she needs, and the understanding you are not like the others she has been groomed for.”
“Time,” I repeated, tracing the ornate whorl in the arm of my wooden chair.
The wordgroomedtapped at the back of my skull. I shifted in my seat, the mystery of Adrienne Valois unfurling before me.
Metal clinked against the marble tabletop between us and Jules leaned forward to take my hand. “Befriend her, Eamon, as you befriended me, as you have Lilith. Goddess knows you have the time.”
