Page 25 of Little Mate
When these people are fed and resting. After visiting our parents’ resting place.
“And we will stand in your absence. We will protect your home and honor your parents until you return.”
A small tap to the Salernitano horse I’m riding brings him to a halt near the forest edge of the vampiric kingdom’s castle. He neighs a bit, almost as if pleading me to turn and go, but I scratch between his ears instead as I appraise the area. It’s quiet. Almost eerily so, but they won’t sense me while I wear my mother’s opal stone with a concealing spell.
You can see me, but not sense—smell me.
Another braying sound, this time accompanied by a stomp of his foot. Onyx is unsettled, his attention flicking beyond the trees, and his unease means someone is close. Too close.
“Videam,” I whisper, my eyes trained on an area not far from where I’m hidden behind a large tree. The greenery here is overgrown, the vegetation thick and dense.
It takes a minute or three, but soon enough a guard walks past without pausing. He’s in a dark red—almost black—uniform with a large sword strapped across his chest, but that’s not what captures my attention. No. What I’m captivated by is this hint of cedar and citrus that infiltrates my senses.
It’s familiar, yet I can’t quite place from where.
He walks with purpose; eyes ahead and back straight, not once turning in our direction before disappearing through another thick cluster of bushes. It could be a trap. He’s heading in the direction away from the coast and the large palace; I blink, and it’s as if he’d never been there.
No noise. No one else passes through, and after a few minutes, I dismount the horse. “I’ll be back, Onyx. Behave.” His answer is akin to a snort, and I scratch down his nose, my touch soft. “No backtalk. This is an in-and-out operation, and I need you to be alert.”
At least, that’s my hope.
Giving him one last gentle pat, I turn and walk in the opposite direction of the man. The closer to the large castle I get, the temperature seems to drop, the waters off the coast creating a cooling mist.
Within minutes I’m at the border and in open space, my eyes shifting from left to right, taking account of the stillness of the night. To be honest, I thought it’d be busier.
Vampires are known to hunt at night. Embrace the demon behind the facade of a regal disposition.
“No matter what, Gabby, you need to reach King Astor,” Isabella says, sitting in the family mausoleum on the property. No one is allowed inside aside of blood ties, and there are only three of us left. We’ve been here awhile now with a few candles lit, the souls of our parents close by and flicking through each fiery wick. The fire dances—rises—with their agreement and blessing. “He will listen. He’s the key.”
“How can that be, when so many lives have been lost because of him?” I hiss out, my anger creating havoc with the spirits lingering near us. However, the loss of our people isn’t something I can get past—it tears my soul apart. There’s a sudden burst of wind near me that makes me pause, though, as the room grows colder. “I’m okay.”
She sits forward, her expression understanding. “Control yourself, sister. Not everything is as it seems.”
I bite back a scoff. This isn’t her fault. “So we imagined the complete massacre at the Salicio village?”
“Did you forget that Meera’s father was dealing in blood magic? That he sacrificed the women and children to—”
“I haven’t.” Voice low, I meet her eyes through watery ones. The sight, the smell inside that hidden prison will forever haunt me. “Had we found them while Salicio himself was alive, I would’ve done worse.”
“Then don’t judge.” Isabella sits back again. Her posture is a little less rigid. “Justice was served.”
“And the others?" I breathe in deep to rein myself in. “That man is a monster.”
“Do you trust me?” she counters, and I nod, even though every fiber of my being rejects the notion of pleading—allying with this man. No good could come of this. “Then stop fighting fate.”
My parents return to calmness at that, their essence once again resting.
“Okay.” It’s done. Decided. “And you? Where are you—”
“I have a werewolf to tame and a pack to win over.”
Vampire. Werewolf.
“This is insanity,” I mutter under my breath, my footsteps light as I walk through the open back door. The opulence is apparent the moment you step inside; all golds and black wallpaper with a touch of red on an accent wall that I find disturbing. Is it blood or paint?
A shudder runs through me at the thought, but I don’t pause, and continue walking down a long hallway that leads to a grand foyer. A staircase is at the center, the paths separating at a landing a few feet up and then going right or left. The banister is tall and imposing, all in a black wooden tone that’s two tones lighter than the walls with a gargoyles’ head as an ornamental detail atop each of the larger balusters.
Step by step, I head on up and then go right. Don’t know why, but I do and the silence, the lack of occupants, begins to unnerve me.