Page 11 of A Vow of Blood and Tears

I nodded, frustration welling in me, a familiar tide I was powerless to halt.

I can speak perfectly well with my hands. Perhaps someone in the Rift could translate?My hands still trembled with the residual shock of discovering I was to be married today, as well as hunger.

Lord Bane’s gaze followed the motions of my fingers, his ridged brow furrowing even deeper. He looked like he mightlean forward and bite, taking off my hands at the wrists with ease.

“You speak the priests’ tongue?” he asked, voice rumbling in my chest.

My hands froze, excitement spearing through me. He was a veteran from the front lines of the Forian War. Surely he’d met the warrior-priests of the Brotherhood, who were all vowed to silence?

I nodded.Do you? Please tell me you understand.

The vampire watched my fingers, then shifted his gaze back to my face. I wasn’t sure how, but he seemed rueful to me—his lips shifted over that rack of fangs in what might have been called a smile. “I apologize. I’ve seen the Silent Brothers speak, but I know very little of their language beyond our wartime shorthand.”

The weight of my own disappointment was shocking.

I lowered my hands to my lap, all hope gone. Even if I had my slate, what guaranteed that they would read it? I would be reduced to scrawling out hasty questions, hoping someone was patient enough to read it. For a moment, I considered trying to mouth words to them, but I didn’t have a decent grasp on how to actually form the shape of sounds with lips and tongue—I had always been reliant on my hands or slate. Any lip-reader would be baffled by my fumblings.

“We have time for that later,” the bloodwitch interrupted. She had deposited the signed copy of the Accords in an iron-bound trunk beneath our seat, and acquired a leather bag. I hadn’t noticed her preparing a small vial full of a dense, dark liquid. “I will need a drop of your blood.”

She held a small needle. Iron, not silver. The metal was dull, but the point was fresh and sharp.

Before I could attempt to ask why, she seized my right hand and jabbed the needle into my fingertip, squeezing until a dropof blood welled. With deft hands, she caught the blood in the vial and capped it, shaking vigorously.

I drew my breath in a silent hiss, bringing my finger to my mouth. From the corner of my eye, Lord Bane watched me, his attention narrowed in on my finger. Those slit nostrils had widened, and as the tip of his forked tongue slipped out, I realized he was breathing in the scent of my blood.

Tasting it on the air.

A shiver ran down my spine, knowing that hewouldtaste me, and soon.

The bloodwitch uncapped the vial and offered it to me. “Drink this. It must be done now to give it enough time to work.”

I took the vial, my fingertip still smarting. Meeting the bloodwitch’s eyes directly, I tilted my head in inquiry.

“It will cleanse you of any contaminants. No vampire will marry a human with diseased blood.” The bloodwitch flapped a hand to rush me along. “Drink up, if you please.”

I looked at the thick, syrupy contents, and exhaled slowly. What could it hurt? I was already in their grasp, and besides, they needed me if they wanted Lord Bane to keep his hold on the Rift. Obviously it wouldn’t be poisoned.

Tipping the vial to my lips, I drank it. It rolled over my tongue, as syrupy as it looked, starting off with a not-unpleasant floral taste and rapidly descending into a choking sort of spice.

Coughing, feeling my face grow red-cheeked, I handed her the vial. The bloodwitch tucked it in the bag, satisfied that I’d drunk it all.

“Good. You will be perfectly pure of any contaminants in time for the wedding.”

My brows shot up as I coughed into my hands. What had we just done, if not get married?

“That might have passed for a wedding among your kind,” Lord Bane said, leaning forward. My breath caught as hispresence seemed to loom over me. “For mine, it was hardly more than a muddled promise. We will have a wedding in the tradition of my people in Ravenscry. Only then will the vampires recognize you as my wife.”

What did a vampire wedding entail? The Veladari tradition of silver dust smeared on the bride’s throat was almost certainly disdained. Even the Eldest Sister had deemed that as going too far in insulting Lord Bane.

I imagined that drinking blood was part of it… though I hoped if that was necessary, I could simply provide it with the needle again. I knew hewoulddrink mine, at least a few drops.

But the idea of drinkinghisblood…

I pointed to him, and then held up my pierced fingertip, and mimed myself drinking. For good measure, because I despised the thought of these people thinking of me as a simple idiot, I added my question with curt signs:am I expected to drink your blood, Lord Bane?

“Oh dear, no.” The bloodwitch patted my hand reassuringly, correctly interpreting my broader movements. “You will never taste Lord Bane’s blood. It binds a human to a vampire permanently, you see. He would be able to feel you in his head for the rest of your life, and it would be a very,verylong life. A vampire only offers a portion of his blood…” She waved her hand vaguely.

“To a true mate,” Lord Bane supplied, his deep rumble ending in a growl.

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