Page 9 of Nocte

“You won’t be able to visit me, then. Once you ascend,” I say. “You would be too busy with your duties on the high council.” Why do I sound so sad?

“I will come anyway,” Day demands, taking a step toward me, in half shadow. “I always will. No matter what. As the heir of House Aurelius no one would dare stop me.”

No matter what. I cherish those words even though they are the antithesis to what I know in my heart. Even though they are a lie—a nice one—I cherish them still.

Poor Day will never admit out loud what we both know in our hearts.

Eventually, he will become an elder, perhaps even a Lord Master. If not, his magic will form the very veil that shields our realm from the mortal world, proving vital even in death. For eons, his soul will live on in the Citadel’s foundation.

By then? I will be gone.

I will be dust.

Although it’s a chilling thought, it shouldn’t bother me. Honesty is my sole purpose. To despair is to regret, and to regret is to feel shame. I am not allowed to indulge in either emotion.

So, I grit my teeth and tell myself that I am fine. Content. At peace.

Then an errant thought slips into my mind, unbidden. Before I can stop myself, it’s flying off my tongue, posed as a question, “Day, have you ever seen a vamryer?”

He laughs and I go rigid. My cheeks flame at the amusement sparkling in his eyes. “I forget how naive you are,” he admits, his tone playful. “Vamryer are not allowed beyond the Citadel proper and certainly not in here. I see them at the ceremonies, or on the street. To speak to one is to speak to them all, for they are all husks controlled by their elder three. Mindless vermin, far beneath your curiosity.”

I nod along. Mindless vermin. Not creatures with their own will. Certainly not a beautiful male who creeps into this very complex to watch me sin.

“Of course,” I say, still nodding. His wisdom should ease my confusion and put it to rest. It’s time to stop asking questions. Stop wondering.

In spite of that logic, the feeling persists long after Day leaves.

When my chores are finished, I should return to the bell tower. I start to, only to wind up on the roof as the sun begins to set below the horizon. So marks the time when the fae retire and the lunairia take their reign. The time of the vamryre, of course, is dusk and dawn, and though it is wrong, I claim my time in the few seconds of sunset. Just a handful of seconds, all mine.

At least before him.

The vamryre’s smell reaches me even before I see him. Sickly sweet and pungent, so different from his usual icy scent. When he appears at the mouth of the courtyard, I see why.

In one hand he holds a white rose—a rare occurrence in this part of the realm. Any awe I might feel is smothered by wariness. Why is he here?

As if knowing the workers will flee rather than confront him, he stalks forward, boldly and unashamed. He is vamryre, and at their core, they are dangerous. Killing to them is what flying is to the fae. A way of life. A favorite game.

Why doesn’t that unsettle me? I wait for the uneasy feeling, but it doesn’t come.

“Hello, little fae.”

I blink. Stare. It’s another long second before I realize that he spoke to me. His eyes don’t waver, his head upturned, gaze predatory and mocking.

I should disappear. Obey my only role. Never speak. Never be seen.

My lips part.

“Don’t be scared now,” the vamryre taunts. His voice is ragged, as though he is always on the verge of a laugh. Or a growl. “Come closer, little bird.”

“You don’t belong here, vamryre.” That strong voice. I don’t recognize it. It’s a shadow of the stern Lord Master’s, but the part of me cowed by authority shivers. Then I realize: it was mine.

The night creature smiles, and my breathing stops.

“So, it speaks.”

It. That word itches more than Day’s delusional fantasies.It.

I step back.

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