Page 139 of Craved

My first act as the new prima was to appoint Rafe as a special liaison between the Tremblays and Krals. I’d offered him a position with my syndicate, but he’d gently turned me down.

“I’m a Kral, sweetheart,” he said. “A made enforcer. I’m not sure Father would let me leave anyway.”

My second act was to elevate Jean-Michel to lieutenant. I needed people around me with experience, and I trusted him to be honest with me. I didn’t hold his refusal to help me and Rafe in Paris against him. In fact, he’d proved his trustworthiness in refusing to break his oath to Victorine, and he hadn’t hesitated to swear a new oath to me.

My third act was to order the cams removed from both my tower on Midnight Isle and my apartment in the Old City mansion. I kept the cams elsewhere—Rafe and I would always need security—but in my own rooms, I’d finally be free of prying eyes.

My fourth deed as the new prima had been conducted earlier tonight. With Rafe, Rosemarie and Jean-Michel as witnesses, Karoly and I had signed a new treaty—in blood. Even our offspring would find it close to impossible to break a blood treaty.

The long feud was finally over.

The clock tower struck three a.m. The darkest hour, when the Lady was at her most powerful.

The priestess and priest blessed the urn holding my mother’s ashes. I took the smooth ebony jar and placed it in the hole next to Father’s urn. The bronze fountain sent plumes of water into the night sky as the assembled vampires came forward one at a time to throw a handful of dirt into the small grave.

The priestess spoke the benediction. “Ashes to ashes.”

“Ashes to ashes,” we responded.

“Bone to bone.”

“Bone to bone.”

“Blood to blood.”

“Blood to blood.”

She brought her hands together in prayer. “So may it be.”

I stepped forward and poured a vial of my own blood on the dirt, sanctifying the spot for all eternity.

There would be no gravestone; vampires don’t mark their final resting place in the human way. Instead, I’d ordered a weeping cherry planted next to the fountain as a living memorial.

Servers appeared with trays of blood-wine. In the gazebo, a jazz quartet played my mother’s beloved French prewar songs.

Karoly Kral and Brien’s father strolled off, engaged in an intense, low-voiced conversation. The seven-day deadline had passed but Zaquiel was still missing. I knew Rafe’s parents must be frantic with worry, although Karoly appeared cool and urbane as usual, and Rosemarie seemed to take her cue from her mate.

As for me, I went cold with fear whenever I remembered Rafe chained in that cell in Paris. We all knew the danger to Rafe and his brothers hadn’t died with Tomas and my mother. I’d beefed up security on the island, including adding a third, higher gate at the causeway entrance so no one else could enter in the shadows as Rafe had. If it were up to me, Rafe and I would never leave, but as he said, that would be letting his enemies win.

Still, the plot against the Krals was out in the open now. Rafe’s father had uncovered evidence that Slayers, Inc. had been infiltrated by a secret alliance of humans and vampires who were using the slayers to settle personal vendettas or to take out powerful vampires such as Karoly himself. He’d reached out to his allies, and talks had begun about how best to fight back.

The band played the first notes of “La Vie en Rose.” My mother’s favorite song.

Sorrow pierced me. I stared down at the patch of bare earth covering her urn, wishing things had been different. That she’d been less of a vampire prima and more of a mother. That I could’ve been perfect enough for her.

Rafe set a hand on my lower back. “You okay?”

I let myself lean into him, just for a minute. “I’ve been better, but…yeah.”

Prince Brien came up to us and I straightened up.

“Zoe.” He took my hands. “I’m so sorry. That it had to happen this way… But congratulations on your ascension to prima.”

“Thank you. And before you ask, no, I didn’t stake her myself.” Apparently, gossip was going around to that effect.

Brien leaned closer. “I believe you,” he said in an undertone. “But I won’t tell anyone, and if I were you, I’d let that rumor stand. Let them think you’re that cold-hearted.”

I nodded. I’d thought of that myself.

---