Page 4

Upon entering the main chamber, our decrepit surroundings shifted to something akin to a modern lounge.

Embracing human luxuries, the area had been decorated for comfort with walnut accents, black leather furniture, velvet draperies, and plush, crimson rugs. Low-burning oil lanterns cast deep shadows and provided minimal illumination—unnecessary but a luxury often used for nostalgia.

Cristofer paused in the doorway. Candlelight flickered and danced against his pale skin, highlighting his unnaturally red lips. It reflected the fire in his lacquered irises. His pupils swelled to nocturnal moons in the dim setting.

Dozens of people filled the lounge. Leaders of important families. Brothers of the resistance. Enemies to Valerius. Several noted our arrival. Cristofer was met with respect, while a few caustic glares landed at my feet.

My reluctance to act this past year had left a bad taste in people’s mouths, the consensus being that I should be the one actively fighting the threat and taking a stance against Valerius. I should be the one to restore order.

My bloodline prevailed. As a direct descendant of the ancient king and Iulian’s nephew, I had a duty, and I’d been ignoring it.

Seamus caught sight of us and rose, crossing the congested room. His eternal age landed him somewhere in his mid-thirties, but accuracy was hard to discern with our kind. His Slavic ancestry showed in his round face, prominent cheekbones, and ash-colored hair, which he wore long and tied at his nape. I suspected his complexion had always leaned toward pale, but like the rest of us, he was ghastly white.

He wore an expressionless mask as he approached, revealing none of his feelings. Regardless, he emitted an energy that spoke of disappointment and shame. Seamus was not part of the deceased king’s bloodline. He would never hold a position of power in the family, but he’d stepped up when I’d turned my back. He’d fought while I hid among the humans, avoiding responsibility.

Before he could reprimand my absence during a time of crisis or remark on my obvious depletion, I spoke. “You’ve located Iulian.”

Seamus stared unblinking for a long time before responding. “Not precisely.”

I glowered at Cristofer. “You lied.”

“Shut up and listen, Mordecai. You wouldn’t have come otherwise.” His upper lip rolled over his teeth in a snarl.

Seamus touched Cristofer’s arm. “Give us a moment.”

When we were alone, Seamus stepped closer and lowered his voice. The scent of copper on his breath made me shiver and clench my fists.

“Iulian will be found. We will bring him back and restore order. We’ve narrowed the parameters to something searchable.”

“What does that mean?”

“We know the country and city where he’s being held.”

“And?”

“He is not in Romania like we feared.”

A quiet relief loosened my muscles. If the usurper Valerius was holding my uncle in Romania, the chances of us freeing him were next to impossible. Valerius’s army had taken control of our home and spread like a disease throughout.

“Where is he?”

“I will speak to everyone, and you will know. I hope you’re prepared to act. The time has come.”

Before I could conjure an objection or make demands, Seamus clasped my shoulder. Hot, blood-tinged breath tainted the air between us. “Your family needs you, Mordecai. Iulian cannot be freed without you.”

With that, Seamus spun and marched away. His shoes whispered along the stone floor as he took position at the front of the room. The gathered crowd hushed and faced forward. I locked eyes with Cristofer, who was half-concealed in a shadowed corner. I could not read his mind, but the warning in every line of his body rang clear.

If you run, I will find you.

“Thank you for coming.” Seamus scanned his rapt audience as though he commanded a place of authority. He was a leader in his own right, and the crowd hushed.

“As you know, our spies have been working diligently to discover the location of our precious elder, Iulian the Great, the rightful king of our people, unjustly banished by the traitor, Valerius. I promised an update when I had information to share, and that day is now.”

A murmur arose from the gathered crowd. Seamus waved a hand for silence.

“It was believed that Valerius held Iulian somewhere in Romania. Considering the usurper has seized both the king’s castle and the fortress Poenari, it seemed logical he would keep our rightful ruler under a watchful eye. It was also our greatest fear since Romania is no longer safe.

“I have good news. This does not seem to be the case. Our spies have learned that Elder Iulian has been shipped far away. To America.”