Sloane Briallen

I stayed outside after Karhi left.  Living vampires passed back and forth through the breezeway.  I received some surreptitious, quizzical glances that made my skin crawl each time. 

After the third instance of someone staring at me, this time completely outright, I got up and left.

Well, I didn’t really leave.  I just walked out into the snow and turned around to survey the breezeway.

The roof was sloped and made of stone.  More importantly, it was clear of snow.  Probably because of the heaters built into it.

I leapt up on top of the breezeway and settled on one side of the sloping roof.  It was a gentle slope.  Enough to get the melted snow off, but not so much that I was falling off.  I laid against the stone, pillowing my head on my hands.  I’d stopped smoking for now but still had the box and lighter in my front pocket for later.

I listened idly to the castle waking up.  Far off, I could hear the calls of children playing.  I heard the opening and closing of doors into and out of the castle.

The omnipresent feeling of magic against my skin was waning.  I hadn’t thought I could get used to it, but I guess even the worst sensations can fade into the background after a while.

The sky above was blue, not a cloud to be seen.  The sun was fully over the horizon but hadn’t really begun its ascent yet.  The air was still.

The door below me opened and a woman’s voice floated up to me.  “. . . heard that they were told they couldn’t have kids until she was turned.”  She had an Irish accent like most of the people I’d seen here so far.

“Well, of course,” a second, deeper woman’s voice said.  A Scottish accent.  “We don’t want another half-vampire in the royal lineage.”  Disdain dripped from her words.  “Bad enough we already have one halfborn princess.  We don’t need any more.”

I turned my head to stare down at the breezeway in shock and dismay.  I knew I couldn’t see through the stone, but I couldn’t believe it.  Halfborn was an awful, awful slur for magics with mixed lineage.  Usually, human mixed with something else.  It wasn’t really a term to use out in the open.  More to hear in hushed tones in the back of a room.

It seemed the women had stopped below me.  They continued speaking.

“I don’t understand how her Majesty allows the prince’s affair with a human.  Surely there are other women in the House that would be more suitable.  Women with more power and more sway.”

“Like Bridgid,” the Scottish woman said.  “Her father is one of her Majesty’s generals.  Certainly, she would be a better fit.” 

“Well, her Majesty married a human for love.  I guess it is not surprising that she would allow her son to marry an Indian.”

Disgust rose in the back of my throat.  On the one hand, I wanted to interrupt them to tell them to go be assholes somewhere else.  But on the other hand, I wanted to hear what they had to say about the monarchs.

The Scottish woman spoke again.  “I heard that she’s already trying to make the queen change things.  Trying to let the ‘bae roam free.”  The laugh that followed was mocking.

The other woman sounded absolutely shocked.  “Do you think her Majesty would actually do that?”  Her voice grew fainter, as if she was walking away.

“No.  Her Majesty would never let those monsters free.”  Before I could hear anything else, the door further from me opened and swung shut.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.  I pulled it out to see a text from Mickey.

You don’t have to answer my calls.  Pls just tell me you’re alive.

I sneered at the phone, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it before texting him back.

You mean like how y’all never told me you were alive?

I muted our conversation and put my phone back in my pocket.  I pulled my knees to my chest and looked out over the field of snow before me.

I had been choosing not to think about what happened in Port Orchard.  While I hadn’t really come to terms with Mickey and Bell’s return, going back there made me realize that I had made a soft peace with it. 

But meeting with Mauve and Leah, hearing the excuses they tried to give me—the peace had shattered.

How was I supposed to move on from what had happened?  How was I supposed to accept that they were the ones who decided to keep this huge secret from me?  How was I supposed to buy this bullshit that they ‘were trying to protect me’?  Because none of it felt like protection for me.  The entire thing felt like they were covering their own asses.

That hurt worse than any of this.  The feeling that I had never really been their kid.  That I would always be just . . . that sad girl with the dead mom.  The dead mom that had once been friends with Mauve and Leah.  A pity adoption, if that was even a thing.

I inhaled long and deep on the cigarette, hugging my knees tighter to my chest.

One of the doors below me opened and closed.  From the sound, I thought it was the door through which I had come out earlier.

I heard three voices.  A woman and two men.  One of the men had a posh Irish accent. The other sounded like he was maybe from California.  The woman had the slight nasal accent of someone from the Northwest.  A native Montanan then?

“Do you know if her Majesty asked already?” the Irish man asked. 

“She did,” the woman replied. 

Their voices were moving underneath me but not as if they were passing through the breezeway.  They were moving out, onto the field.

“And?”

“She was messed up from being captured.  She told Hazel she needed time.”

Oh shit.  Were they talking about me?

I finally saw them walking out from underneath the breezeway, into the snow. 

When I saw the woman, I had to resist the urge to let my jaw drop.  One, because she was human.  Two, because she was fucking beautiful.

She was on the shorter side—I suspected it was because she couldn’t get too tall with how thick her thighs were and the ass she was packing.  Her jeans flowed over her curves, sitting high on her waist.  Her chest was nothing to sneeze at, but it had nothing on her hips. 

Her skin was a rich golden beige, dappled with white spots and splotches here and there.  Her hair was inky black, except where it framed her face.  That hair was white.  Vitiligo.

Staring at her, I almost missed the two men with her until they spoke again.

The man from the West Coast spoke.  “Wait, is that what happened to . . . what’s-his-name?”

He towered over the woman, walking to one side of her.  Chestnut hair and broad shoulders, he cut a nice figure in a black peacoat and black pants.  He brushed his hair behind his ears.  His palms were like dinner plates.

“Stroud,” she answered.  “Yeah.  I guess he and Caileanhad her captive.  They pulled one of the truthseekers in.”

“Which one?” the Irish man asked.

He stood between the woman and the other man in height.  He had huge ears that stuck out from his head and a long, straight nose.  Looking at him, the term twink came to mind, with his slender body and bony wrists.  He had dark, glossy hair and when I had heard his Irish accent, I wasn’t expecting to see an Asian man.  Honestly, that was on me for making assumptions.

“I think the Indian one?  Not Savita, the other one.”

“Binita,” he snarled, biting off the end of each syllable.  “Good riddance.  I hated her.”

The other man snapped his fingers.  “Oh, is she that one that—”

“Cheated with Azure’s da on his mum, yes,” he sneered bitterly. 

The woman reached over and hooked her arm around his waist.  She gave him a quick squeeze before letting go. 

Getting this exposition was releasing tension in my shoulders that I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding.  I had been pointedly trying not to think about how I’d killed two people the day before.  Even if it hadn’t been on purpose.

“She and Stroud had it coming,” the American man said.  He moved on.  “So, his and her Majesty asked that vampire?”

“Yes.  And we’re waiting on an answer.”

“What happens if she says no?”

The three of them were far away now, getting close to disappearing into where the field cut behind the castle.  But even from here, I could see her shoulders fall.  “If she says no . . . we have to figure out something else.  I guess, worse comes to worst, I may have to ask you, Devlin.”

I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear from Devlin’s tone that he grimaced.  “I’d rather not.  Still don’t know if my sire is even still alive.”

Interesting.  How did he not know that?

I didn’t get to hear her response because they disappeared behind the castle.  Probably something about the magic of the castle or whatnot blocked sound.  It would make sense with why no one had noticed me up here.

I stubbed out my spent cigarette.  I took out another one and lit it.

That must have been Alice. 

And I suddenly understood that those two dickhead vampires earlier hadn’t been saying “Indian” to mean someone from India.  They had to have meant Native American.  For fuck’s sake.

I was beginning to think that maybe I should spend my entire stay on top of this breezeway.  I was going undetected and learning a lot about this place.

I stayed on top of that breezeway for four hours.  I got through almost half the pack of cigarettes in that time.  I was pacing myself because I didn’t want to have to go get more.  Hazel had had a whole carton brought for me, and I left them in Mira’s room.  She was probably finally getting some actual sleep.

I gleaned a bit more from the conversations I heard as people walked from one building to another.  I had known that Hazel had three children, a daughter and two sons.  This was apparently the first time they had all been together in the same place in years. 

Every single person who interacted with Prince Saeran had complaints and wished they were serving under Princess Cailean or Prince Cyly.  Every person serving under Cailean or Cyly made derogatory comments about them.  Grass is always greener, I guess. 

I learned that Princess Cailean was a half vampire.  I heard the term “halfborn” more than once.  And I heard a few derogatory terms for Native Americans, too, when people spoke of Alice Costa, Cyly’s fiancée, and the woman I was to turn.

I learned that people had a healthy fear of Aoife.  I learned that no one knew why the White Psychic was here.  Some didn’t even know what she looked like.

A set of doors opened, and I heard Aoife.  “. . . finally have a room set up for you.  I’m so sorry you had to wait a whole week.”

Another voice replied.  “Don’t worry.  I appreciate the efforts the king and queen are making for me.”

“Yes, we—”  Aoife stopped and a moment later she came out from under the breezeway to look up at me.  Her nose wrinkled, and she frowned.  “What are you doing up there, you creep?”

“Creeping,” I shrugged.  “I’ve been up here for five hours.  Do you know how many people have noticed me?”

“I’m going to go with none since you’re still up there.”

“That would be correct.”

“Get down from there.”

“You’re not my mom.”

Aoife squeezed her eyes shut, pinching the bridge of her nose and massaging it. 

A second person appeared from under the breezeway.  She was cute, maybe late-twenties, early-thirties?  A human with mouse brown hair cut in a bob and an adorable button nose.  Freckles spattered her pale walnut cheeks.  She looked from me to Aoife, her face colored with amused confusion.

Something was off about her.  Not in a bad way, more of an off-but-familiar way. 

I let myself slide down the roof before dropping to the ground, wiping some ice off my butt.  I had landed close to the new woman, close enough to get a sense of her.

She reminded me of the acid and carbonation of seltzer water.  There was an ashy quality to it, too, like something hidden behind smoke.  She smelled like water and heather.

I’d found an anthroshifter, someone who could shift into other human forms.  God damn.

Anthroshifters were fucking rare.  I had known one growing up, but I had honestly never expected to come across another one ever again.  I did out the math once when someone had given me a rough estimate of how many existed in the world.  There was one anthroshifter for every seven million people or something crazy like that.  It was a percentage point of, like, 10^-8 of people in the world were anthroshifters.

“Sloane, this is Amara.  Amara, Sloane.”

Amara held out her hand.  Mentally, I picked my jaw off the ground and reached to shake her hand. When we touched, static electricity snapped, and we both flinched.  Static electricity, but the touch was enough to confirm my suspicion.  I could feel magic in her even in that brief touch—pulsating and changing. 

“Ooh, sparks flying already,” I murmured without much thought, looking from our hands up to Amara.

Amara blushed, looking away.  “Nice to meet you,” she mumbled, her gaze very pointedly on the snow.

Ooh.  Well, then.  I smirked.  “I’m sure.”

Aoife cut in, either not catching or ignoring the moment.  “I’m taking Amara to her room, but then I would like to talk to you.”

“Who wouldn’t?” I replied, finally looking back to Aoife.  “I’m amazing.”

She shot me a dirty look, starting back for the building that I had started calling the Royal Building.  The one that I had slept in with Mira and where I had met the king and queen for the first time.

I followed behind her and Amara.  Aoife led us down a corridor, passing tapestries and paintings.  Braziers lined the walls, each glowing with electric light.  I had kind of thought that a castle like this would be powered by magic, but really, electricity made more sense, didn’t it?  Except for the lights in the king and queen’s chambers.  Those had definitely been magic.  Maybe you got more dramatic lighting the more important you were.

Electricity aside, there was still an undercurrent of magic in the castle.  I could feel it like an invisible, subtle force against my skin.  Like the charge in the air around an old TV.  It made me want to rub my skin to dispel the feeling, but I knew it wouldn’t do anything.

It also kind of made me want to touch something made of metal.  To help discharge the static.  But I knew from past experience that doing that wouldn’t serve me in any way.

Maybe I could stick my finger in an electrical socket.  I’d feel a different kind of charge.

Before I knew it, we were stopped in front of a door.  Aoife was telling Amara about the amenities in the room behind the door.  I hung back to loiter, one knee bent, foot on the wall.  I would wait.

Aoife brought Amara into the room, closing the door behind them.  I pulled out my phone to check for messages or calls.  Nothing except for where Mickey had left me two more texts, but I didn’t look at them.  There was nothing from Bell and no missed called from Mauve and Leah.

I was glad to be left alone, but there was also a sore piece deep inside my chest that hurt.  It ached that Mickey was the only one checking in on me.  Nobody else was seeking me out.

I shook my head.  No time for that right now.  I could feel sorry for myself later, when I wasn’t supposedly in the midst of debating turning someone.

Turning someone.  Now that was a fucking thought.  Not one I had ever entertained, but it was a thing.  I had the ability to kill people . . . and bring them back?  I could, just, turn any human I wanted? Whenever?

It was a weird power to possess.  Most people only really considered that vampires were killing machines.  They thought about how powerful vampires were, how easily they could kill someone.

But honestly, anyone could kill someone.  Hell, a dedicated duck could kill someone.  I remembered once reading about a man who got killed in Florida by a duck.

But resurrection?  Bringing someone back from death?  I knew that was how Karhi had been brought back.  I knew Sevilen had been dying of tuberculosis or something when Aoife found him.  I knew Zeren and Carry had been dying from a violent protest when they were turned.  It was a common story among vampires.

But Alice actively wanted to become a vampire.  She was Prince Cyly’s fiancée.  This was a choice she was presumably making.

I grew up with a certain view of vampires.  Not necessarily all negative, but definitely not positive either.  Bloodthirsty killing machines who viewed humans as quick meals.  Apathetic creatures that didn’t care if they drained someone dry.

Of course, as a kid, I hadn’t full believed all of that.  Aoife had been a part of our lives since I was maybe twelve?  She and, when he accompanied her, Sevilen had shown us that vampires were just more magics existing in a world.  They sustained themselves on blood, but they would primarily drink when we weren’t around.  The rare times they drank in front of us, they would drink from closed thermoses. 

But now I understood even more how the bloodthirsty monster idea was just overblown.  Understanding what I did now about how vampires operated (reparations to victims, only needing maybe a pint of blood a week, and so many other things), I knew that the stereotypes perpetuated about them were just overhyped drivel. 

I barely remembered the night of my own turning.  Thinking about it brought up complicated feelings.  Everyone who knew me from before I became a vampire said that if I had been turned, it had been my choice.  And while I couldn’t remember that night well, I could feel in my gut that it was true.  I could also feel in my gut a sort of wrongness every time I thought of that night.  I felt like I had done something wrong.  And not wrong because I became a vampire.  Wrong because I had done something bad.

I had never asked Karhi about that night.  He seemed to avoid thinking about it.

I suddenly felt off balance, like I had been carrying something heavy in one hand and finally let it go.  It was a sensation I had come to associate with living vampires before they were in my sightline.  It was how I knew Aoife was around when I was a kid, if she didn’t get my attention first.

Something about this aura made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.  I straightened up, keeping my eyes on my phone, bringing up Tetris again.  I watched the screen, but I listened to what was around me, making sure I had a full view of the hallway.

With vampires, it’s a fifty-fifty of hearing them before you see them.  Everything about them is quiet and stealthy—their heartrate, their breathing, their steps.  Vampires, even if they weren’t bloodthirsty killers, were still predators at their core.

I did hear this one, though.

“. . . send for Aoife.  She left before I could finish detailing the security measures for—oh?”

I looked up to see a man I didn’t recognize, a phone to his ear. 

He was gorgeous.  His hair was brown and close-cropped in a fade with dyed light brown highlights.  It was permed and coiffed so that none of the natural curl was visible.  His eyes were a deep blue-violet that seemed to shift colors when he moved.  It was striking against his freckled tawny skin. 

He wore a pair of jeans and a light grey shirt that stretched over his chest, leaving very little to the imagination.  Shorter than me by a few inches, he was well built with defined shoulders and a narrow waistline.  His body screamed that he had spent a lot of time sculpting his body before becoming a vampire.   He looked to be in his early thirties.  He smelled woodsy, like gin and some sort of pine.

Seeing me, he hung up the phone without saying goodbye to whoever was on the other end.  That was the first hint that I wasn’t going to like him.  Who did that?

“You must be Sloane,” he said, lips pulling away from his teeth in a smile that made me uncomfortable.  There were too many teeth, and it didn’t touch his eyes.

I put my foot down and stood up straight.  All of my instincts screamed at me to run from this man. 

“Yeah,” I said.  “And you are?”

The smile disappeared, and the coldness I felt from him reflected on his face.  “His Royal Highness Saeran Ruaidhrí.  You will address me as such.”

Yeah, I had thought so.  Everyone seemed to think he was insufferable.  Now I could confirm that.

I raised an eyebrow at him before shrugging and looking back to the door, begging Aoife to come back out.

Suddenly he was in front of me, looking up at me with flashing red-purple eyes.  “You will bow.”  Spit went flying from his mouth.

I wiped my cheek off with the back of my hand and wiped it off on my pants.  “You’re not my prince.” I kept my voice nonchalant while I weighed my options for leaving.

He slammed his hand into the stone right next to my head, and I just barely kept myself from jumping.  I glared at him, unimpressed.

“You are a guest in my castle—”

I ducked out from under his arm and turned without putting my back to him.  “I was invited by your mother.  You’re right; I’m a guest.  And you should be treating me as such.”

I knew a bit around the laws of hospitality.  I was an invited guest in this castle.  It meant that anyone who lived here left me alone—no violence, no threats, nothing.  As far as I was concerned, he had threatened me, which meant I was well within my rights to take him down.

His face turned a nice shade of dark red.  “You’re trying to lecture me on the rules of hospitality?  As a guest in my castle—”

“It’s your mom’s castle, though.”  I gave him the finger.

Before he could answer, the door opened, and Aoife stepped out, head high, a slight smile on her face.  It soured the moment she saw us.  Her shoulders dropped, and she looked her age for a moment.  Seven hundred years of exhaustion.

“Sloane, don’t flip off his Highness.”

Saeran’s dark purple eyes flashed closer to violet and then lilac.  It was close to that mother-of-pearl color, which made me think he was close to transforming. 

“Aoife,” he snarled.  “She insulted me.”

“Yes, your Highness.  That is what she does.  But she didn’t lay a hand on you, which means that she is free to go.”

“My mother—”

“Will demand to know why you’re agitating her guest.  Your father will likely have some words about it with you as well.  I would suggest that you leave, your Highness.  Before you make things worse.”

This whole time, Aoife was saying “your Highness” but I kept hearing “dickhead” each time.  Aoife wasn’t afraid of Saeran.

Saeran huffed and snarled and glared at me; but he finally spun on his heel and stalked down the corridor he had originally come from.

When he was gone, Aoife sighed.  “Sloane.  Why?”

“Why did he feel the need to demand I bow to him and spit on me in the process?” I shot back.  “Because some of us are just assholes.”

She rolled her eyes, huffing out in annoyance.  She turned from me to head deeper into the castle.  “Come on.”

“You know he was looking for you?”

“He wants to discuss matters I have already overruled.  He can’t stand being wrong.”

“Yeah?  He didn’t strike me as the type.”

She looked at me out of the corner of her eye.  “Uh-huh.  Stay away from him.”

“It wasn’t my intention to seek him out, but I can’t control what happens if he seeks me out.”

Aoife pinched the bridge of her nose and hefted out a long breath.  “Please try to stay out of trouble.”

I shrugged noncommittally.  I wouldn’t be trying to get in his way or anything, but I also wasn’t going to let him treat me like garbage.

Seeing she was getting nowhere, Aoife moved on.  “Anyway, you’re the last person I expected to see on this side of dead.”  She raised a questioning eyebrow at me.

I didn’t really want to talk about it with Aoife.  Honestly, I didn’t really want to talk about it with anyone.  “Yeah, well, things change.”

“For someone who was so adamantly against vampires—”

“I was fine with you and Sevilen.”

“Because you knew us.”

“Look, Aoife, we can get into me, a poor kid with absolutely no power, hating on an entire race of creatures who could tear her apart in a second, and discuss systemic racism and what it means to just blanket-hate a group of people, but why?  This discussion is useless.  Just ask what you want to ask.”  I was feeling more and more tired as we continued.  I didn’t really know where we were going, but I knew Aoife wouldn’t take me anywhere dangerous or anything.

“Why him?”

I shrugged.  “Things were bad.  My adoptive brothers disappeared.  I was so, so tired of everything.  Met Karhi in a bar on my nineteenth birthday.  Figured out who he was early on but forgot later because I was really fucking drunk.  I guess it was one last desperate attempt for something new.”  Or a desperate attempt to get him to kill me.  I wouldn’t say that out loud.  Those thoughts still hadn’t fully coalesced, but I was pretty sure that was why I felt icky about the night Karhi turned me.

I was surprised when Aoife didn’t push.  Her expression changed from scrutiny to something softer.  I saw an old pain flash across her face as she smiled.  It was bittersweet, I thought.  “Losing your family can make you do awful things.”

“Yeah, well.  Joke was on me.  Turned out they were off gallivanting in the woods, having become werewolves.”

Aoife’s brow furrowed.  “What?  Werewolves?”

“Yeah, I guess.  They turned at eighteen for the first time.”

“You didn’t know what happened?”

“They kept it from me.”  I used finger quotes.  “To protect me.”  I snarled in annoyance.  “Whatever the fuck that means.”

“I said that losing your family can make you do awful things.  That also applies to the threat of losing your family.  It can make you do awful things, too.”

I shrugged without replying.  I hadn’t meant to spill everything to Aoife, but here we were.  I was beginning to regret it.  This wasn’t helping and the back of my throat burned with bile.  Why the fuck was I talking about this with her?

“Was that all you wanted to ask?”

She shook her head.  “No.  We prepared a room for you.  One that’s warded to keep Mira from getting into your dreams.”

I raised an eyebrow at her.  “You have a room like that?”

“Yeah.  Since a lot of vampire children are born with neuropathic abilities, we have some rooms to let them sleep without being woken up by other people’s dreams and thoughts.”

Oh, right.  That made sense.  From our interactions with Aoife over the years, I did know that a disproportionate population of living vampires had neuropathic abilities.

I chose not to think about the fact that Aoife knew I was having nightmares so bad that Mira needed to be separated from me. 

We rounded a corner to come to a dead end with one single door.  It was made of a shiny bronze metal, the handle a similar color.

“Here,” she said, pulling out a key and unlocking the door.  “We put in a larger bed but since this is usually a children’s room . . .”

I saw what she meant immediately.

The walls were painted like an underwater scene.  Green kelp coming up from the base boards, fish winding their way through it.  The baseboards were a greyish brown for sand, the water above it a cerulean blue fading up into a lighter pink, huge bubbles headed closer to the ceiling.  In one corner was an octopus making its way across the sand and in another was an eel.  A mola mola swam up a door that I presumed to be a closet.

The furniture was what I would expect to see at a cabana on the beach.  A starfish studded dresser next to a desk in the shape of a compass with the face of a compass painted on top.  There was a mini fridge to one side of the dresser covered in decals of whales and dolphins.  Two windows on one wall were unadorned but the curtains were blue.  They looked out onto the field where I had watched Alice and her cohort walk.

The only thing out of place was the queen-sized sleigh bed that had been placed against the wall opposite the dresser and desk.  The sheets were a blue that matched the cerulean of the walls, but the dark brown wood frame was an obvious contrast to all the blues and purples and pinks in the room and on the other furniture.

There was even a rug in the shape of a sand dollar on one side of the bed.

“There are some jeans and shirts in the dresser and some nicer things in the closet.  We got a couple different sizes. But Mira seemed to have an idea of what you would need.  If you need other things we haven’t provided, let us know.”  Aoife pointed to a door between the desk and the dresser.  “Private bathroom with a tub and a shower.  Again, it’s nautical-themed, but should have everything you need including a toothbrush.”  She pointed at the fridge.  “Blood in there.  Type-O but let me know if you have a preference.”  She sucked her teeth in annoyance.  “Looks like they forgot a blood warmer.”

I shook my head.  “I drink them like a juice box.  It’s fine.  I only drink it warm if someone else makes it for me.”

Aoife raised a skeptical eyebrow at me before shrugging.  “Alright.  Well, if you need anything, hit this.”  She pointed to a button right above the bed.  “A servant should be here within a few minutes.”

My teeth itched hearing that.  The idea of having someone come at my beck and call didn’t sit right with me.  “Thanks,” I forced myself to say.

She set down the key to the room on the dresser with a clacking noise.  “I’ll leave you here.  If you can, try to get some sleep.” 

She left.