A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire(46)

“But the lure of my blood was too much?”

Casteel nodded.

My stomach twisted with nausea. “When I saw Lord Chaney, he always seemed…kind,” I said. “And more mortal than the Duke or Mazeen.”

“The Ascended are masters of hiding their true natures.”

But so was Casteel.

My heart tripped over itself, still unable to think that all Ascended were like that. I thought of the Duchess, who’d told me to not waste one more moment thinking of Lord Mazeen when I questioned if I’d be punished or not. Maybe there was a reason I’d never seen her and the Duke touch one another. Just because she was a vampry, that didn’t mean she was protected from his cruelty. And then I thought of Ian.

In the silence and in my desperation to not think about my brother, I thought of the knight—Sir Terrlynn. Inherently, I knew he was the one who’d spoken while in front of the keep, the one who had disemboweled the Descenter. “Did you kill the knight?”

“I did what he’d done. Sliced him open and let him bleed. He was a vampry, but it was not without pain.” Casteel’s eyes burned with golden fire. “And then I killed him.”

“Good,” I whispered.

A measure of surprise flickered across his face. “There was very little dignity in his death.”

That was true. “But he’s dead now?”

Casteel nodded.

“At least it was a…relatively quick death.” I didn’t feel even remotely bad that the knight had suffered. And maybe I should be concerned about that. I probably would be later. I took a deep breath. “How many were lost?”

How many names would be added to the walls?

“Four were killed, in addition to Mrs. Tulis. Six seriously wounded, but they will survive.”

My heart ached. “What of the boy? He’s okay, right?”

His gaze turned sheltered, and suddenly I remembered what Casteel had said. He didn’t let the boy go. I rose onto my elbows. “The boy is okay, right? That’s the only reason why I laid down my dagger. Chaney said he’d let the boy go.”

“He did what all Ascended do. He lied.” Tension bracketed his mouth as I jerked. “The only blessing was that it was a quick death. His neck was snapped. He wasn’t fed upon.”

For several moments, I couldn’t think. I couldn’t even speak as the image of the boy’s wide, panic-stricken gaze filled my mind. Horror and grief seized me. “Why?” A knot clogged my throat. “Why would he do that? Why kill him and not even feed upon him? What was the point?”

“You’re asking for an answer to something that not even I can fully comprehend,” he replied quietly. “The vampry did it because he wanted to and because he could.”

Closing my eyes, I pressed my lips together as my heart squeezed and twisted. Tears burned the backs of my eyes, and I wanted to—I wanted to scream. I wanted to rage at the pointlessness of it all.

I didn’t know how long it took me to gain control, to not burst into tears or fall headfirst into the helplessness-induced rage. I’d done all that I could to save that boy, and it meant nothing. Nothing. He would still be just another name added to a long, endless list of them. And for what? And the Tulis’s son? I knew in my heart of hearts that he too was dead. I exhaled raggedly as I lay back down, smoothing my hands over my face. My cheeks were damp.

Casteel remained quiet, silent and watchful. When I opened my eyes again, I asked, “What was his name?”

“Renfern Octis,” he told me.

“And his parents?” I asked hoarsely.

“His parents died some time ago. His mother by a Craven, and his father to sickness. His uncle and aunt cared for him.”

“Gods,” I whispered, staring at the rafters. “I…I saw the knight take him. I couldn’t stand by and watch that happen.”

“I’d hoped that you would, but I wouldn’t have expected anything less from you.”

My bleary gaze shifted to him. The words weren’t spoken in annoyance. I thought I detected respect in them. “That’s why you gave me my dagger.”

Casteel said nothing.

“Do…do you have it?”

He nodded.

I started to ask for it back, but Casteel said, “No matter how much death I’ve seen, it never gets easier.” His lashes lowered, shielding his gaze. “It’s never less shocking. I’m glad for that, because I think if it ever does stop shocking me, I might stop valuing life. So, I welcome that shock and the grief. If not, I would be no better than an Ascended.”

What I’d said to him the other day soured on my tongue. “I know you’re not like them—like the Ascended. I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

Casteel stared at me for so long, I started to grow concerned. But then he said, “You’re not going to ask if you’ll turn into a Craven now? You’re not angry that I gave you my blood?”

“I know I’m not going to turn into a Craven.” I sat up easily and leaned against the headboard. “Did you use compulsion?”

“Not to make you drink. You were surprisingly amicable to that, which caused me to worry all the more,” he told me, and I was suddenly grateful that I had no recollection of that. “Once you started to feel the…effects of my blood, I did use compulsion to help you sleep. I assumed you would appreciate that.”

Considering how I’d reacted the last time, I did appreciate that. I drew a leg up under the blanket. “I’m not mad. I don’t hurt, and I would’ve been in a lot of pain.” I looked at my arm again, still shocked to see nothing more than faint marks. “How often can you give me your blood? I mean, would something happen if you continued to do it?”

“I hope that I don’t have to continue doing so, but nothing would happen if I did.” His lips pursed. “Or at least, I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean by ‘at least’ you think that?”

“Atlantians don’t often share their blood with mortals, not even half-Atlantians.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “In fact, it’s forbidden.”

“Is it because of your bloodline?”

“Our blood doesn’t have much impact beyond its healing and aphrodisiac qualities to mortals. But you’re not completely mortal. I imagine it may strengthen the part of you that is Atlantian, at least temporarily.” He faced me again. “But there is a worry that sharing one’s blood with those who have mortal blood could eventually lead to an Ascension.”

“Oh.” I could see why that would be a concern. “Would you get in trouble if it was discovered?”

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

“But I do,” I blurted out.

An eyebrow raised. “Then you’re worried about me, Princess?”

My skin flushed. “If something happens to you, then that would jeopardize what I want.”

His head tilted as he studied me. A too-long stretch of silence passed. “No one who saw how injured you were either time will ever share that I gave my blood to you.”

That was good to know. “But what would happen?”

He sighed. “Kieran was right. You do ask a lot of questions.”

My eyes narrowed. “Curiosity is a sign of intelligence.”

Casteel smiled at that. “That is what I hear.” The dimple disappeared. “The King and Queen would be unhappy, but since I’m their son, they would probably yell at me, and that’s about it.”

I wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth or not.

“I figured you’d be mad,” he admitted.

“How can I be mad when you made sure that I’m not in pain?” I asked, and I truly wasn’t. “It didn’t hurt me. It doesn’t hurt you, right? I’m just glad I don’t have a throbbing headache and…” I looked at the faint marks. “I won’t have yet another scar.”

Two fingers pressed under my chin and lifted my gaze to his. “Your scars are beautiful,” he said, and there was a swift, swelling motion in my chest that couldn’t be deflated no matter what my brain yelled at it. “But I refuse to allow your body to be scarred again.”

My heart started thumping once more. “You say that like you mean it.”

“Because I do.”

I wanted that to be true, and that was enough of a warning. I leaned away from his grasp. “When…when do we leave?”

“Naill is out scouting, making sure there is no unexpected traffic on the western roads. I can’t leave until I am sure that there are no immediate threats to the keep,” he explained, and that made sense. “I hope we will be able to leave by morning or the following day at the latest.”

Nodding, I closed my eyes. When I started to see Lord Chaney’s face, I shifted my thoughts beyond that to what I’d learned before the Ascended arrived. I’d likely discovered what bloodline I descended from—a line of warriors.

The need to get up, to move—to do something—hit me again, but this time, I had a purpose. “Are the injured ones in pain?”

Casteel’s brows knitted. “They’ve been given what we have on hand to ease their pain. Magda left to retrieve more.”

“I can help them.” I scooted to the other side of the bed and pushed the blanket off.