Page 10 of Nocte

He lunges forward, standing almost directly below me. His rose looks so fragile in his grasp. So delicate, quivering in a stone-like grip. Pity for it is why I reach out. Without meaning to, I reach out, letting my fingers tease the empty air.

The vamryre grimaces. I think he meant to smile. “Come.”

“Why?” I say. A question. A statement. Why bring that rose to me, if he has?

“Fly down to me, little bird, and find out. Secrets should be whispered.”

A secret. A whisper. It’s dangerous, a deceitful lie. I know that vamryres used to feed on our kind once—fae kind. Could this one be desperate enough to seek out a half-fae unprotected by the council?

If so, it would be a smart course of action. Were I in his shoes, I would do the same. And if so… I would want that prey to run. To scream. To make it fun.

How boring would it be if they put up no fight at all?

Slowly, I inch forward, unsure of how to proceed. I’ve never climbed down from this height. Never roamed the actual courtyard floor. I never have, but I don’t feel afraid. Perhaps…thrilled. Disobedience has never been this exciting.

“Jump,” my visitor says to goad on the rebellion. “I’ll catch you.”

He won’t. I can see it in his eyes: the glee and the hate. He wants me to fall and bleed. He wants to test me. Can I fly like other fae, or is my deformity more crippling than it looks?

He’s right.

I hate that he is right.

There isn’t time to think. So, I step forward and raise my arms.

And I fall.

Thudding pain. The ground slams into me, driving the breath from my lungs. It hurts. Hard stone digs into my ankles, cutting and ripping. The front of my robes is covered in dust. My knees smart, bloodied and torn. Then, just as the sharp pain bites deep, I’m lifted into the air. Spun around. Set down gently on a crumpled piece of wall with the vamryre standing before me. Between my legs. Too close for comfort.

“You’re bleeding,” he says, his eyes glowing, teeth peeking from his upper lip. Sharp teeth. Fangs. He’s ecstatic. Surprised. I’ve made it too easy for him, but I’ve also made it more fun. He lives for fun, this strange vamryre.

I thought his kind wanted only what the others wanted. Craved only what they all crave. Power. Wealth. Luxury.

None of which can be found here, in an old building that serves as a monument to their loss of freedom. The council elders want us to believe that all races live in harmony. The old texts say otherwise. The gossip circling even this old, neglected part of the Citadel claims otherwise.

The vamryre fought unity the hardest of all. In the end, it was only self-preservation that made them join forces with the fae and ultimately create our other realm. By that time, only three of the pure vamryre were left. Centuries later, only they and their spawn remain still.

Which one created him? A vicious one.

“You let me fall,” I tell him, craning my neck to see his face.

Neither of us is surprised.

“You knew I would,” he tells me, but he frowns at that. I wonder what he’s thinking—which, should, in essence, be what every vamryre is thinking. They are one and the same after all.

So, what dotheywant from me?

Blood. In his gaze, I can see only hunger. This creature isn’t like Day or Lord Master.

They pity me. Despise me.

He wants to devour. Me. The stone I’m perched on. The sky.

He doesn’t care. He’ll take anything he can sink his teeth into, leading to a stranger realization. Titles and status matter little to him.

“I can hear your heart beating, little bird,” he murmurs, bringing his face near mine. A perfect face composed of impeccable bone structure. Lips unnaturally pink. Eyes unnaturally bright. Teeth unnaturally sharp. “I didn’t know you perfect fae could bleed.”

I am. Smears of red seep from a patch of missing skin on my right knee. As I watch, more blood comes forth. Drip drop.

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