Page 42 of Darkest Heart

His brows furrowed as he let out a long exhale. “Gwendolyn. I believe her mother and Kalon are responsible for shielding her. I’m yet to figure out how they’re doing it. There are others, too. The king and queen. He uses a special tea blend. But I understand his motive. He can’t have anyone, including me, able to see his plans. That could bring down the kingdom. Hamza, when he was alive, had also shielded himself from psychic intrusion. I haven’t tried to sense every noble here, but I will make sure too from now on. This tournament is bringing in many powerful figures from all over Sanmorte. With them in one place, I’ll be able to tap into anything that might be useful.”

“I’ll keep my people on the lookout in the south,” I said, changing the topic as my list of suspects grew longer. “Speaking of the tournament, I have to prepare.” Tomorrow loomed over me as more people arrived. My father was nitpicking at every little thing, and I still hadn’t taken Elizabeth’s sister out of the competition. “I must go.”

“One question,” Azia called before I could race out the door. “Why do you want to be in power?”

“I thought you could intuit everything?” I raised my brows.

“I’m not a mind reader. I see only flickers of things from a person.”

I smirked. At least he couldn’t see all of my vulnerabilities. “It must be painful,” I said, craning my neck to see him from the door, a mocking grin on my lips. “To not know everything.” Before he could say anything else, I left, speeding past the trickling pond, Azia’s last words echoing in my mind.

There were many reasons why I needed to be king. For the good of Sanmorte. To help other vampires like me. To finally show that I was more than what everyone believed. Those who looked down on me, would finally have to curry favor. Respect wasn’t given, it was earned. I desired that. My father’s hateful words came back in flashes of memory. While vampirism may have healed the scars on my back, I could still feel them. Each one of them pushed me to keep going, every time I felt like giving up.

I cast my eyes over the forest extending from the ground. He wasn’t the first to underestimate me. Even my father saw me only as a tool. Not that it mattered. I didn’t trust him from the beginning. The only mistake I’d ever made was trusting Gwen’s intentions, and that had gotten me nowhere the last time. I wouldn’t make the mistake of doing it again. With anyone. The world was a cruel, callous place. The only way to survive it was to become far worse.

***

My father was in his office, as always, while dignitaries arrived at the drawbridge. Velda slid at his side, her sour expression a constant as always. “You forgot to bow,” she said when I entered.

My nostrils flared as I looked her up and down. “I don’t bow to anyone.”

He gestured for her to stop, and she shut her painted lips. “Son,” he started, his tone sharp, “is everything in place for tomorrow?”

“Yes, but I’ll be removing one of the competitors from the tournament.”

“Why?”

“She’s weak, and won’t be entertaining to watch. The girl will be better used for our guests to feed on.”

He let out a tense breath. “Find someone to replace her. You should have picked them more carefully.”

I suppressed my scowl. He’d chosen that entire group when he made his speech to the court. It was just like him to place the blame on me. “How are you shielding yourself from Azia?” I asked, not beating around the bush. He always despised that.

His eyebrows lifted, the crown on his red hair shifting slightly. “I’m not. Why do you think I am?”

I couldn’t tell if he was lying or not. Velda sat straighter, her shoulders tensing. I lifted my chin, my eyes boring into hers. “A wrong assumption,” I said slowly. “I should continue the preparations.”

“Your club is doing well,” he said before I could leave. “I hear you have members all over.” He paused. “Try not to fuck it up this time,” he said, referring to when I let Gwen in last time, and she’d leaked all our private member’s information, utterly destroying my reputation.

“I won’t.” I glanced at Velda before leaving. For my father, his words were high praise. He didn’t know how to extend it properly. Our relationship had always been contractual, but he saw a part of himself in me. Neither of us showed weakness, up until Gwen. The disappointment on his face when he found out was enough to drive me away. “I’ll keep you updated on who arrives.”

I left the room and headed down to the dungeons. We had over a hundred new mortals, who needed sorting into the different categories: ones who would serve the Blood Brothers, servants to cook and clean the castle, and the rest to feed on. I smiled when I passed the foyer. Delegating the decorations had been the best idea. The Blood Brothers had done an excellent job in draping the walls, creating privacy tents with the most luxurious fabrics, and giving the illusion of mystery and intrigue. The ceiling was coated in a rare crystal dust, a mirage of stars. I poked my head into the feeding room. Even the tables had been polished into mirrors, with the deepest crimson roses dotted amongst white lilies. A splatter of blood between innocence. The perfect theme for our guests.

This was our chance to show the royal image in its best life, after all these years of Sargon making a mockery of it. We were the ones in power, our race was the most superior and it was about time we reminded everyone of it.

FIFTEEN

Olivia

Dressed in white, I glided through the bone-carved court along with Algor, Astor, and three others.

Death tainted the breath of the hunched aniccipere guard as he leaned down into my space. “If it isn’t the false queen.” His tongue darted from his lipless mouth, circling a trail of saliva around the skin on his face. “In the flesh,” he said after his display.

“It’s Seraphina to you,” I corrected, my stare boring into his beady eyes. He tilted his head, his nose wrinkling as he got a taste of my darkened soul. “You’ve got something in your teeth,” I said, gesturing to his mouth. The creature dragged a nail down his needle-like teeth, pulling a lump of rotting flesh out. “My last meal,” he baited, his predator stare monitoring my every movement.

I smirked in the face of the beast. “You should learn to clean up after yourself. Being the guard of this”—my eyes glazed around the black walls, to the outfits on the watching soul vampires—“court.” I suppressed the laugh bubbling in my throat. But he sensed it. They all did. It would be hilarious if it wasn’t so horrible. Watching them parading around, bowing to each other as if they were dignified, was too much to bear. There was no decadence expected from royalty. Every interaction felt animated, as if they were just as uncomfortable acting civilized as I felt watching them try.

Algor stepped around me. “Open the doors.”

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