But none of the humans are allowed to come back my way. Instead, someone throws a blood bag at me, which I catch with a quick hand, just before it hits me in the face. I tear into it with animalistic control—none, and down the entire bag in less than thirty seconds, leaving my front covered in splatters of red.
Fitting. I will arrive in Roter Himmel—Red Heaven, covered in red.
We take off again, and it’s another six hours in the air. I have too much time to think. Too much time to analyze.
What is going to come? Will I be able to make them see reason? Will they just kill me no matter what I say? What will happen to my House if I am put to death?
These are the things I want to focus on, but there’s a tear in my heart that is leaking deadly and toxic emotions.
Ian. I let him go forever because I truly believed he had left me. That he walked away when he saw that I was what I was born to be. So, I let him go. I moved on. With Raheem. We kissed. And I let myself get lost in those kisses.
But… But what if Ian hadn’t walked away? What if the King really had lied about who sank their fangs into my neck, ending my human life? What does that mean for Raheem and I?
I turn to the blocked out window and wipe the single stray tear away.
What a mess I’ve made.
The next time we touch down, the pilot comes back, thanking us for joining him and saying he hopes we enjoyed our flight.
“You okay?” Trinity asks when she joins at my side as we begin to file out of the plane. It’s dark outside, a cool nip to the air. I have to remind myself we’ve just flown half way around the world.
“Yeah,” I say through a thick throat.
“In here,” the woman in charge of me says, indicating another waiting limo. Trinity and I climb inside, and it’s instantly dark when we do, the windows blacked out.
We take a silent ride, and I try to distract myself from my impending trial by studying the terrain outside the window. A valley spreads out before us, sided immediately by steep mountains. Trees dot every surface. Small patches of snow hide in the shadows.
Spring is close here. The warmth in the air is fighting the cold. They aren’t buried in snow here. They aren’t cowering beneath the eye of a curse storm.
And Austria is beautiful.
We cut through the valley, toward where the mountains narrow together. It takes us thirty minutes to reach the mouth of the canyon, and then I’m feeling a bit claustrophobic.
The mountains cut straight up around us. They tower, shadow us, it feels darker through here, even in the middle of the night. The stars blink in and out of view behind trees, behind the peaks of the mountains.
“I’ve never been out of the country,” Trinity says quietly. She stares out the window, too.
“Me, neither,” I say as I shake my head.
“The world is a big, big place,” the woman says. And she holds a smile on her face. She’s happy to be home.
The canyon goes on for an hour, winding, climbing, falling in elevation. The snow grows more prominent, several feet deep, and then thins out before disappearing completely.
We begin to descend into a valley, curling to the north, and suddenly, we’re in yet another canyon. This road is narrower. The trees grow closer. The car drives slower around sharper climbs and turns.
I feel the anticipation inside of me rising. I can feel the air thicken. Feel the danger growing more obvious.
We’re almost there.
We crest over the mountain, so high in elevation my instincts tell me my ears need to pop. But my vampire body does not react the same. And as the trees thin, as our outlook opens up, I get my first view of Roter Himmel.
THERE’S A GIANT LAKE SPREAD before us. It must be miles wide and half a mile across. The stars and crescent moon reflect brightly off the perfectly still water. Lights of houses and buildings dot the horizon beyond the lake. I think that’s what they are. It’s difficult to make out the details from this distance.
The valley is completely surrounded by mountains. And it’s obvious: the only road into or out of Roter Himmel is this one we are on.
We descend into the valley and the scent of pine and rain grows thick. Nightfall here is grand, like anything in the world could happen. This is a town of secrets and magic. Of blood and curses.
The road nearly levels out and then curves around the edge of the lake, hugging the base of the mountain. It’s narrow, only two lanes. No highways here.
“How many people live here?” I ask in wonder as I take it all in.
“There are four hundred thirty-something Court members in Roter Himmel,” the woman says. “And roughly five hundred humans. They feed us, take care of the farming and animals. And they’re paid greatly. The King takes care of everyone in the valley.”