“Where were we? Ah yes, how I came to be here. It was a combination of factors. My parents were voids, and my powers were late to manifest. By the time it became obvious I was an oracle, they couldn’t bear to see me killed. For a time, they tried to hide me from the village, but a young witch has to practice their powers. One little gaffe on my part and the village was demanding my head. They fled with me in the middle of the night, and after a time we made it here. Or nearly, I should say. My mother didn’t survive the journey, and my father died soon after.”

“A vampire killed him?” Sympathy twisted in my stomach.

She shook her head. “No. His heart simply stopped one day soon after we arrived. In any case, that’s my tale.”

“Are there many witches who come to the vampire lands?”

“Not many. More voids, looking to be turned.” At my horrified look, she grinned. “Immortality and supernatural strength are a seductive combination. Mortals serve in the kingdom, and if their service is exceptional, they can earn the king’s blessing to turn.”

I swallowed. “Is that why you serve Raphael? Because you want to be a vampire?”

“No. I’ve seen enough of my fate to not want more,” she said, a touch quiet. “I serve Raphael because he’s a decisive, fair king. Besides, it’s forbidden to turn a witch. Immortality, supernatural strength, and magic? Even the gods would condemn that.”

I didn’t presume to know what the gods would and wouldn’t condemn, especially if Amalthea was implying vampires weren’t condemned by the gods.

Heresy.

“So you’re telling me humans just… come to live and work in the Vampire Kingdom?” My tone was heavy with skepticism. “The vampires just let them do their jobs instead of feeding off them? Next you’ll tell me you have orcs over for tea every week.”

“Only once a month,” Amalthea replied immediately.

I laughed before I could help myself.

“See? There you are. I knew there was a girl with a sense of humor under that skittish exterior.”

“Skittish?” I snorted. “What human wouldn’t be terrified when surrounded by vampires?”

Amalthea gestured at me, gossamer fabric flaring. “A human under the protection of their king. Vampires revere hierarchy, and King Raphael sits squarely at the top. You’re his. No one would dare try to steal from the king,” she explained. “Besides, the vampires don’t feed indiscriminately outside of designated times. You of all humans have nothing to worry about.”

Despite her assurances, I remembered the time a vampire had bitten me. The vampire king. The way I—no, my body—reacted.

“You expect me to believe they can control themselves? They’re little more than animals.” I forced contempt I didn’t feel into my words, chasing away the memories of the bite.

Amalthea frowned. “Is that really what you think?”

No. Not about Raphael. But I could still see it—the blood, the throat ripped open. Blood and blood and—

Amalthea pressed my hands into hers. “Gracious, stop shaking. He’ll lambaste me for distressing you.”

I shook the memories off as well as her hands. “I’m not going to run off and tattle to Raphael.” The thought was preposterous.

Amalthea took a long drag of her tea, her smallest finger extended as she dipped the cup back. “It’ll hardly matter, dear. He’ll know. He drank your blood, after all.”

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I gaped at Amalthea. “What?”

“What have you done now, Thea?”

I flinched at the sudden sound of Iademos’s voice. He’d returned carrying a tray of tea and biscuits, and I hadn’t heard so much as the packed dirt crunch under his boots.

He set the tray between us and leaned against the wall. There was enough space to sit, but I was thankful. He could clearly sense how uncomfortable I was and was giving me some distance.

But my discomfort was overwhelmed by the sheer number of questions threatening to bubble over.

“What do you mean? He can feel what I feel because he drank my blood?”

“Well, yes,” Amalthea said.

“Thea, it’s not for us to tell her this.”

“It’s my blood, so I certainly think I’m entitled to know what it means,” I snapped.

She looked between me and Iademos. “You have a point. It’s simple, when King Raphael drinks someone’s blood, a link is formed. He’ll be able to sense your emotions for the rest of your life.”

“Is that how it works for all vampires?” Gods, the taking of blood was an invasion, but this was beyond any horror I’d imagine.

“No, not at all. Very few vampires have that ability. I understand it’s rather overwhelming, given how much vampires drink. He’s not taken from the source in over a hundred years.” She paused, gauging the effect of her words on me. “And those he’d taken in the past out of necessity, he killed shortly after so he wouldn’t be bothered.”

My skin turned to ice.

“Biscuit?” she offered.

I took the biscuit. Then I ate three more after the first made me acutely aware of how hungry I was. “If Raphael is going to kill me because of my pesky emotions, I might as well die with a full stomach.” Crumbs sputtered at the corner of my mouth around the words, any semblance of manners forgotten.

Amalthea’s eyes flew wide. “Oh, no. I’m sure he wouldn’t.”

I wasn’t. Right now, he needed me to translate the grimoire, or so he claimed. But a few months or years from now? When he was sick of being bombarded with my fear and stress and all those pesky mortal emotions?

But I’d ask Raphael directly about it later. There had to be a way to sever the link… besides the obvious. Him not mentioning it had to be deliberate though. If it was easy to sever whatever bond had formed, he’d have done so by now. Right?

“Now, where were we?” Amalthea said, obviously eager to change the subject.

“Before mentioning Raphael’s killed every human whose blood he drank, you were telling me the vampires and humans coexist peacefully.”

The witch winced. “I’m not saying there’s never any… friction. But generally, yes, it’s peaceful. The vampires here aren’t starving by any means, so there’s little danger from them. Feeding tends to occur only from donors.”

I frowned. “Donors?”

“Humans who offer up their blood to vampires,” she clarified.

I jerked back. “Why would anyone do such a thing?”

“For gold, mainly,” Amalthea explained. “There are many jobs open to humans here, but since blood donating is one thing vampires can’t do, it’s a lucrative avenue. From my understanding, it can be pleasurable work.”

The memory of Raphael’s fangs buried in my neck and the sensations it brought burned through me once more. I drained my teacup to the dregs, desperate for anything else to focus on.

“Ready to train, then?” she asked as I set the cup back down on the platter.

I stood. “Please.”

But Amalthea didn’t stand with me. Instead, Iademos pushed off the wall.

I hadn’t forgotten the vampire was there, not quite, but I’d managed to relax temporarily. Now, I squared my shoulders and unsheathed the dagger. I doubted I’d be able to even scratch the vampire with it if I tried. Gods, I hated being weak.

Raphael trusts him. I tried to repeat the words enough to calm myself, but I had no doubt the vampire heard every quickening beat.

“You won’t be using that today,” the vampire said. At my confused look, he explained, “For one, you’re liable to cut yourself with it without training.”

“And for another?” I asked.

“It’s a cursed copper alloy, which means in the extremely unlikely event you struck me with it, it would… prick. Use this instead.” He walked to the rack of weapons and tossed me a short wooden blade. I scrambled—and failed—to catch it.

“We have our work cut out for us,” Iademos said dryly.

I glared.