No, Aden was far more than that. He was courageous, honorable, and had (almost) always made her feel better about herself. He’d never purposely hurt her, and he never would, even when he was at his worst. She could not say the same about Sorin.
So, this was one battle she would not back down from. “You should have taken the crown from Vlad yourself, but you didn’t. You struck at him from behind, waiting, biding your time.”
Finally, the reaction she’d expected since the first. Anger. “Your human did not strike at Vlad,” Sorin said with a glare. “Dmitri did. Aden merely finished off your betrothed.” True. But. “If Dmitri defeated Father, Dmitri was stronger than Father. And if Aden defeated Dmitri, that means Aden was stronger than both of them.”
“Logical, but wrong. He’ll not defeat Vlad. He’s too nice. More than that, Father was at his weakest when Dmitri attacked him. That will not happen again. He’ll be prepared now. And he’ll do anything, fair or foul, but mostly foul, to get what he wants. You know this. I can defeat him, however. I will defeat him. I’ve been preparing for this war for years.”
“Wait. What is all of this about defeating Vlad?” Lauren said. “He’s dead.”
The sickness churned more forcefully. “Actually, he’s alive.”
Lauren looked like she wanted to protest, but a nod of confirmation from Sorin, then Stephanie, had her sputtering. “How did you guys know? Why did no one tell me? What does this mean for us? Our people?”
“Sorin told me,” Stephanie said. “And it means nothing. No matter what, Father cannot be allowed to rule again. He’s a tyrant.”
“But…but…”
“You know I’m right. You hate him, you just don’t want a human in charge of us.” Stephanie twined her fingers with Sorin’s. “And you need to listen to me. Aden isn’t as nice as you think. I mean, he is, but he’s lived at a ranch for human baddies for months. He’s done stuff. He’ll not be easy to walk on.”
Sorin scoffed. “A baddie human isn’t the same as a baddie vampire warrior, now is it?”
“I’m with Steph,” Lauren said, abandoning her upset over Vlad’s defeat of the grave. Or, really, her upset over not being told. “You’re underestimating Aden, and it’ll cost you.” Metal vibrated and whistled as she ran her fingertip along the center of one of the swords. “You weren’t here when he had our beasts slobbering all over him.”
“Stop!” Victoria banged her fist against her thigh. “Giving Sorin information about Aden is akin to aiding him. Aiding him is a betrayal to your king.”
Sorin waved away her protest. “They’ve told me nothing I didn’t already know. And you can tell your human that I will be leaving my beast behind. He’ll not use mine against me.”
She absorbed his words, her eyes widening. “You can do that? Leave your beast behind? On purpose? And survive?”
He nodded proudly. “Unlike Father, I have never feared mine. I accept that part of myself—and use it to my advantage. My beast leaves me and returns to me at my discretion.”
“He doesn’t try to kill you?” Lauren asked, as shocked as Victoria was.
“He did. At first. Now, he accepts.” Sorin rested his elbows on his knees, his expression thoughtful. “Perhaps I’ll teach you how to release yours. He can fight alongside you. And believe me, you’ll never have a stronger, more vigilant partner.”
“I would love that!”
Victoria had never heard such excitement from her all-fighting-all-the-time sister. And, she thought with mounting dread, there went Aden’s best advantage. Controlling Sorin through his beast.
“Things will be much improved under my reign,” Sorin said, his gaze pinning her in place. “You’ll see.”
FIFTEEN
RAIN POURED ALL NIGHT LONG. Rain still poured at dawn and throughout the rest of the day. The sky was as black as an abyss, the clouds so thick Aden wasn’t sure they’d ever dissipate.
At the appropriate time, he made his way to the backyard of his new home. A home he would not give up easily. He stopped at the edge of the warded circle, quivering with energy. He was shirtless, wearing only jeans and boots, already soaked to the bone.
On his finger perched Vlad’s ring, filled with je la nune. At his ankles, his daggers were at the ready. Every vampire living in the home stood outside with him, some holding torches under the awning. Victoria stood with her sisters, wringing her hands together, bathed in flickering firelight.
They hadn’t spoken since she’d left him yesterday. She’d tried, she’d wanted to, but still he’d avoided her. His hunger for her would have deepened, and worse, he would have asked her to betray her brother.
He couldn’t ask her. Not if he wanted to like himself when this was over.
It would be hard to like himself, though, if he was dead.
“Did you feed?” she mouthed.
He gave one clipped shake of his head. No, he hadn’t. He’d tried. A few hours after dismissing the slave she’d sent him, without taking a single drop of blood from the girl, his hunger had overwhelmed him and he’d marched to the slave quarters, an area that was more like a harem than anything, where the humans could roam freely, even though they didn’t want to roam.
As he’d stood there, watching them, listening to their idle chatter, he’d found his hunger actually dwindling. Even though the scent of their blood, the drum-loud beat of their hearts, had tantalized him. He’d left.
On his way to the throne room, where he’d sat and thought in private, again he’d been more interested in the blood of the vampires he’d passed, his hunger returning with a vengeance. Yet he’d opted not to partake, wondering whether he’d spend the next day seeing the world through their eyes rather than his own.
He’d almost hunted Victoria down, almost asked her to feed him. But still he’d avoided her. For all his other reasons and one more. Well, many more, but this one was the most important. She didn’t want to feed him. The knowledge tore him up inside, even if the fault lay entirely with him. After the way he’d treated her…
An animalistic cry reverberated in the back of his mind. One he’d heard before, one he ignored.
He hadn’t gotten to tell Victoria about his encounter with her mother, the dancing woman. He was now certain that was who he’d seen, that he’d watched one of Victoria’s memories come to life. A memory of her mother trying to abscond with her, of Vlad catching them. Of Vlad punishing Victoria while her mother watched. A whipping, each of the cat-o’-nine tails laced with the same liquid in his ring.
By the time her father had finished, her back had reminded him of tattered Christmas ribbons. Vlad would pay for that.
And Aden would be the one to kill him, for real this time. Soon. He just had to take care of Sorin first.
Aden, Elijah said nervously.
“Not another word,” he muttered. “You guys promised.”
I’m sorry, but I only just realized. Only just saw. You need to take your pills. Okay? Please.
“What? Caleb and Julian demanded in unison.
“Saw what?”
Just take your pills. As you know, I’ve seen this fight end with several different outcomes and each one was worse than the last. Well, I just saw another outcome. The images were disjointed and distorted, and I’m not sure I saw things in the proper order, but I think you will walk away from this if you take the pills.
How could that be? “I don’t have them with me.” If he failed to take them, would he have a vision of Victoria’s past, midpunch? Would the souls distract him too much? “Besides, I need your ability.” He needed to know what Sorin planned to do to him before the bastard actually did it. Sorin was going for his head, no question.
Just…send Victoria to get them.