He almost killed me here. This is where Victoria saved my life.
I hide my discomfort. Father continues to walk.
We go through another set of doors. The halls become tighter. Father takes a turn, and then one more, and another…
And suddenly I find myself standing in front of the doors that lead to the treasure vault.
I misplace a step. Father looks at me. “Something wrong?” he asks, too casually.
“No,” I choke. I can all but feel the invisible noose is being lowered around my neck.
“Good. There’s something in here—” he nods ahead, “—that I want you to see.”
I swallow my sudden fear and walk with him into the room.
It’s exactly as it was when I was last here: the fallen chalices on the floor; all the spilled blood; the destruction from the fight between me and Eleira and Victoria and Raul…
“Nobody has been allowed in since your escape.”
I almost choke. The noose is getting tighter. “It wasn’t an escape. It was an ambush.”
“You and Victoria tried to betray me.” Father kneels down and touches the dried blood on the floor. He brings it to his lips.
“This…” he tells me slowly, after tasting it, “…is the blood of a great witch.”
He surges up, and before I know it, his hand is around my throat, the other on my chest, just above my heart. His claws extend and he digs through my shirt. There is deep-set fury in his eyes.
“You brought her here!” he rages at me. “You brought the witch, you had her under my nose, and you did not give her to me! After I offered you the gift of sanctuary! After I spared your pathetic, miserable life! You are a traitor!”
His hand crushes my windpipe. I cannot speak.
“Well?” he brings his face closer. “What do you have to say? Think carefully before you speak. Your precious Victoria is not here to protect you.”
I choke out a single gasp.
He turns an ear to me and hisses, “Yes?”
“I…”
Whatever remaining strength I have is being sapped from my body. I’m fading. Under Father’s strength I am nothing. I hate this feeling, I hate how pathetic it is, how damn pitiful it makes me feel…
“It was betrayal,” Father growls, tightening his grip over my heart. “And I only brought you back to me for one thing.”
He lets go, and the sudden release makes me stagger and fall.
“So that I could kill you myself.”
Just as he’s about to attack, a female voice from the background stops him.
“I would not be so hasty about ending this one’s life if I were you, my King.”
Father freezes. I look past him and see a beautiful raven-haired woman flow into the room.
A gown of the deepest maroon hugs her curves, and then flows out behind her in a long train glittering with jewels. Her face is painted with smoky makeup, emphasizing her dark, dark eyes against the pale complexion. She’s stunning, and, in short—just my type.
She comes up to my Father’s side and places an arm around his back. He grabs her and pulls her to him, kissing her passionately.
An ugly spark of jealousy rears inside of me at the ostentatious display.
When he lets go, she turns to me. Pity shows in her eyes.
In that moment, such a violent torrent of anger surges inside me that I nearly lash out and attack Father. I know full well I would lose.
But pity from a beautiful woman is amongst the most humiliating feelings that I know.
“Why do you toy with him so, my King?” she asks. “The vampire who spoke at his induction was right. He has your bloodline. In it, there is strength.”
“Strength to defy me,” Father says.
“Look at him.” She motions at me. “He is proud. You shame him and expect respect in return?”
“He is too arrogant. Such arrogance—”
“—is mirrored in you, my love.” The unnamed woman smiles sweetly at him. “Could you blame James for his behavior, given the circumstances of his upbringing?” She lowers her voice. “He’s been corrupted by your first wife. There was a reason you left her for me.”
“Don’t speak of such things in front of the boy.”
I cringe at being referred to as ‘boy.’
The beautiful woman offers me her hand. “Let me help you up.”
I swat it away imperiously. “I don’t need your help.”
“But you are in need of my protection.” She glances around her. “Had I not stepped in, your blood would already be on these walls.”
I cast a surreptitious look at my Father. His face is blank.
“I’m sure,” the woman continues, “that you had reasons for hiding the witch from the King. So tell us, while your ruler is in an indulgent mood…” she strokes his arm, “…what that was.”