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The dimple annoyed me just a bit more than it had yesterday.

“Have you seen my brother?”

“Not a trace.” His grin widened. “Good thing for us. You disappeared so fast, Sam. I was hoping we’d have a chance to get to know each other.”

“I think you know enough women.” My words came out pointy, like tiny, ineffective daggers.

“Aww, that’s just Amy. She likes to tease me a little. It’s nothing.”

“I don’t care,” I said sincerely. “I just think it’s a little strange to act the way you do when you’re with her.”

“Don’t be jealous, Sam.” He placed a hand on my shoulder, pushing me slightly so I had to look at him. I barely hid my flinch. “I’d much rather get to know you than talk to her.”

“That wasn’t talking.” I tried to shrug his hand off, but it only drifted lower. I squirmed slightly.

“Thought I’d have the chance to get to know you better last night, but you disappeared on me,” he chastised, ignoring my correction the same way he ignored the fact I definitely didn’t want him touching me.

The accusation in his voice rankled, but he had a point. I had been rude. He’d fed me, given me a special dessert which I hadn’t gotten to drink because of Raphael, and I’d left.

“We’ll be leaving soon anyway, so it doesn’t matter.” And really, it didn’t. I didn’t like that Thomas was two-faced about women, but I didn’t want him. “I’m just going to get Alphonse ready while I wait for him.” Never mind the fact I didn’t know how to set up a horse’s tack. I just wanted the boy gone.

“Oh, he’s probably going to be a while. I bet he went for his own roll in the hay, if you know what I mean. Gives us some time.” He winked.

My stomach twisted. Could Thomas have been right? Without his red eyes, he certainly passed for gorgeous, and could’ve had his pick of women at any stray tavern he’d gone off to.

Then again, he’d probably just enthrall them and steal their blood rather than go for a “roll in the hay” as Thomas put it.

Or both.

Somehow both was worse.

“He’ll be back soon,” I said with false confidence.

“Then we should make the best of the time we have.”

He leaned in. I leaned away. My back immediately landed against a wooden post, trapping me. I felt all at once too trapped, too claustrophobic, but the words to explain why Thomas should back away wouldn’t find their way off my tongue.

His palms were on my hips, pinning me.

Trapped.

A flash of darkness and Raphael was there, powerful hands on either side of Thomas’s head.

A twist. A crack! And Thomas fell to the floor.

His eyes looked up at me, unseeing, accusing.

Dead.

I raised my gaze to stare at Raphael in open-mouthed shock.

“How could you?” My words wobbled off my tongue.

His eyes may have been blue, but there was nothing human in them. “It’s not all that hard, given my superior strength.”

“He was just a boy!” I was close to screaming, but the words came out hollow.

“He was an irritating nuisance. He had no value.”

“He was human.”

“He was weak. I was strong. I wanted him dead, so he’s dead. It’s not complicated.”

I looked from the corpse to Raphael. “You’d kill me that easily,” I rasped. “Just another weak human.”

“Ah, but right now, I have use of you.”

“And if I cease to be useful?”

“Then you’d best take care not to,” was his chilling response.

He pushed past me and readied Alphonse. When he led the horse from the paddock, I could only stare, my body numb.

“Listen to me, Samara. You can tell yourself I killed him because I’m an evil vampire. Or because I found his voice irritating and the wine he gave you smelled suspicious, or simply because I didn’t care for the way he looked for any excuse to put his hands on you. It matters not. He’s dead, and you still have to travel with me. As long as you’re in my care, you’re mine. No one else’s.”

My body was still numb as he pulled me atop the horse. I couldn’t help but look back at Thomas’s eyes. I wanted to reach for him, for what reason, I wasn’t sure. But Raphael moved us away quickly.

We reached the City of Answers the next day.

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Chapter Thirteen

Apante was glorious.

Unlike Greymere, which was little more than… well, like its namesake, a gray block of stone, the former Witch Kingdom capital was filled with tall, colorful buildings. Multi-colored glass windows reflected rainbows onto the streets. Where the village had been overwhelming with a few scattered visitors, the City of Answers boasted hundreds of travelers that arrived every day.

Raphael and I blended in with the crowd. With the disguise magic in place and hood over his head, Raphael was able to move easily through the streets. Unnervingly so—if anything, he had more ease with the vendors than I did. He strolled up to a cart and returned with breakfast in the form of shaved meat, wrapped in a flat bread. The food of peasants—my mother would never have let me eat something so unrefined, especially with my hands.

It was delicious.

“You still haven’t told me what you need me to ask,” I reminded Raphael, glancing up at him between bites of food.

Alphonse was settled into a stable at the front of the city. The streets were too crowded for people to move easily through with a horse, so we walked side by side, just as we had in the forest.

“Patience, dove.”

I huffed. We needed to request an audience with the Librarians. Then, I’d hold up my end of the bargain, and we’d go our separate ways.

I’d be alone. Again.

Trumpets sounded. The mass of people parted on cue, with Raphael and I getting swept to the side. With my short stature, it was hard to see past the crowds, but curiosity compelled me forward. A few moments later, I understood what the commotion was. Brilliant white horses marched forward, two by two, led by a large stallion that carried Prince Marcel the Bountiful.

Women cheered loudly at the sight of him, and then everyone turned frantic as he tossed handfuls of coins out to the crowds. A few coins turned into a hundred by the time they landed. Children dove between the adults, keen eyes working with tiny fingers to try to win against each other.

As he passed us, he tossed a handful right at us. Perhaps I should’ve reached—I was hardly any better off than the beggars on the street, only a few of Raphael’s stolen coins lining my purse. Instead, all I could do was stare.

He had the same chestnut hair as all those years ago, his eyes kind and guileless. The people of Eurobis might fear their Storm-Blooded King, but they loved Marcel. His smile was broad, disguise magic perfecting his teeth that had been crooked as a child.

Twelve years was a long, long time. I hadn’t felt the years stolen from as acutely until the moment his gaze slid over our section.

There was no recognition when he turned away to throw more coins to the other side.

A relief, of course, that no one from the royal family recognized me, but not an unexpected one. I was a nobody. Besides, as a precaution, I’d used a card to disguise myself before we entered the city in case word had spread from Greymere. My hair was a color that seemed fashionable with the women of the day—lavender—my eyes an average blue. The remainder of the magic I used to twist my features just slightly, changing my nose and chin enough that Raphael had rolled his eyes at me.

“Is that the type of boy you like? Not a nice village one, but a royal one?”

Of course the vampire missed nothing. Still, I couldn’t force myself to turn away until the accompanying entourage of carriages and horses totally blocked my view.

As long as he didn’t guess the real reason I was staring at the prince, I was safe.

“You killed the nice village one, remember?”

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