Page 73 of The Vampire Castle in the Sky

It was a struggle to concentrate, to keep my expression dispassionate and surreptitious. Even my voice betrayed me when I finally spoke, “I assumed you were going to return her East.”

“She had no such preferences,” Roan said curtly, his eyes pinned on an indistinct distance. “We buried her by the cherry trees before the sun came up.”

“You did not ask me to attend.”

A line of apprehension carved between his brows. “They said I shouldn’t disturb you. They’re… scared of you, Hector.”

I gave him a hard, remorseless look. “They should be. They tried to hurt my wife, frame me for murder, and steal my home. If I were them, I would be terrified to even sleep within these walls.”

It took Roan several moments to meet my gaze in the pale semidarkness of the corridor. The tapers on the candelabras were sparsely lit, and there was an odd, bone-piercing chill out here. Odd indeed, for if the Castle was linked to my emotional state, the whole floor ought to be broiling right now. I had the strange sense ever since the incident with Thea that the Castle’s magic was slipping from my hold. It obeyed me still, dutiful and resilient as a king’s general, yet I felt distanced from it somehow, which scared me more than I cared to admit, for my whole life I’d been an Aventine before I’d been Hector. I scarcely knew who I was without it.

Roan cleared his throat, deciding not to comment on my rather menacing statement. “I require your help.” I cocked a brow, and he continued more warily. “Tieran needs more blood.”

So that was why he was here. The Castle was out of blood, and the sun was high and dazzling in the sky.

I gave Roan a sympathetic nod. “Go get some rest. I’ll get him more blood—”

“You must know, I didn’t do it,” Roan blurted out in one ragged breath. “I didn’t kill Camilla.”

My hand fell from the doorknob, tension shooting up my spine. At the end of the corridor where the largest of the mirrors trickled with water, I could have sworn an invisible presence watched me tentatively, waiting with bated breath to see what I would do.

Shaking the strange notion from my head, I turned to Roan again, and this time I made sure my face betrayed nothing, not a hint of the suspicion that coiled in my gut.

Yes, Roan had given me his oath, but I no longer believed that to be anything other than a well-devised part of a much larger plan. After all, how could I accuse of murder the only man that had willingly given me his loyalty? For all I knew, he’d encouraged Camilla to poison Thea, pretending to be on her side, just so he would give me the appearance of a motive. Camilla wouldn’t have suspected him, for she had never even respected him.Stoic little Roan, she used to call him. Stoic little Roan, who always smiled amicably and fixed her mistakes, and who believed everything could be solved with a firm handshake and a brief exchange of words.

When Roan realized I was not going to respond, let alone give him the peace of mind he’d come here for, he pressed closer. From this distance I could see the bruised and pierced side of his neck, and I wondered how much of his blood he’d had to give to Tieran before he summoned the courage to ask for my help.

“There is a reason I swore to stand by your side, Hector,” he ventured in a measured but tenacious manner. “I do believe you’ll become a great ruler. Not despite your humanity but because of it. I know I haven’t always been accepting of your kind, but my years with Tieran opened my eyes to a side of humanity that was utterly unknown to me. This is why I fell in love with him. He’s so perfectly, wonderfully human. Evennow, even like this.” His voice became strained, his composure slipping from him like a handful of water. “I wouldn’t do this to him. I wouldn’t make him suffer like this.”

Unease crept under my skin, for the words rang too genuine, too vulnerable. I’d been certain Roan would do anything for Tieran, even murder his own aunt. But what ifanythingdidn’t mean killing the reason his husband was suffering but instead allowing her to exist just so he wouldn’t suffer any worse?

If that was true, if Roan hadn’t done this… Then who? Dahlia? Was she really capable of such brutality?

“I can’t believe I’m not the only one awake at this ungodly hour,” Arawn’s exhausted groan sounded from across the pathway, his disheveled form separating from the shadows.

“And what areyoudoing up at this ungodly hour?” I shot back.

“Hoping to find some blood in the kitchen,” he grumbled, stifling a tremendous yawn. “How is it possible we’re out already?”

“Sorry,” exhaled Roan. “Tieran needed it.”

“I’m going hunting right now,” I reassured them, drifting further and further away from the dreamscape of my moments with Thea. “How is Dain?”

Arawn merely shrugged. “His pride got the worst of it.” Leaning in, he gave me a conspiratorial little wink. “Besides, he has Dahlia to lick his wounds.”

Roan smacked the back of Arawn’s head.

“That fucking hurt,” bristled Arawn.

“And that is my sister you’re talking about,” growled Roan.

“Wanker.”

“Dimwit.”

I sighed at the ceiling, inwardly praying to whoever god was willing to listen. “I can’t believe we’re the future of vampire society.”

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