Sloane Briallen

I caught Amara just as she was leaving the dining hall through the room that held the order window.  She looked so squishable in an oversized purple hoody and black fleece leggings and fucking Uggs.  They were brown with huge bows on the backs.  When she saw me, she frowned. 

“What happened to you?” she asked.  “I thought we were meeting up?”

I grimaced.  “I’m sorry.  I ran into Alice when I went back to my room, and then I had to go see the queen, and it was a whole thing.  I was hoping to catch you before you finished eating, but it took way longer than I thought.”

She eyed me for a moment before her frown turned to a pout.  “I thought maybe you were just being nice this morning and then bailed.”

My heart swelled with how fucking cute she looked.  She was avoiding looking at me, and her lips were scrunched together.  She was blushing.

I took one of her hands in both of mine and pressed my lips to the backs of her fingers.  “One-night-stands are fun, but that wasn’t my plan with you.  I can’t really make any promises about once I leave, but I can confirm that while I’m here, I’m still down if you are.  I’m having fun.”

The pout disappeared, replaced with a hesitant smile.  She still couldn’t look me in the eye as she said, “Yeah . . .”

I leaned down until she had to look me in the eyes.  Her skin was darker than mine, but her blush still made her look like a ripening tomato.

I gave her a peck on the mouth before straightening up, dropping our hands down and lacing our fingers together.  “You have anywhere to be today?”

She shook her head.  “Not really.  I’m currently on a break.”  She started walking, and I went with her.

“Break from what?”

“For what I do for the House.”

I raised an eyebrow at her.  “Oh, you mean the mysterious work that you won’t tell me about?” I asked, knowing full well why she couldn’t tell me that she was an anthroshifter.  That was dangerous knowledge for me to have.

“That exactly.  But it means I have off until after New Years’, which is nice.  How long are you here for?”

“I leave the nineteenth or the twentieth.”

Her face fell.  “That’s so soon!”

My brow furrowed.  “Is it?  Wait, what day is it?”  I hadn’t been paying attention to the days, distracted as I had been by being absolutely miserable and angry and traumatized.

“The seventeenth.  Wednesday.”

That couldn’t be right.  I had gone with Mickey and Bell on Thursday . . . I counted it out, ticking off my fingers.  “Shit,” I said, when I realized Amara was right.  “I have not been paying attention.”

Amara snorted, shaking her head.  “Your first couple days here were a mess from what I heard.”

I scowled, my mood darkening.  “I would prefer not to talk about that.”

Amara held up her free hand with her fingers splayed in a placating gesture.  “Wasn’t going to ask about it.  Anyway, what do you want to do?”  She stopped walking to look up at me.  We were at a junction of two hallways, close to an outside castle wall.

I made a show of looking around, though I knew no one was nearby, before stooping down and murmuring, “You.”

She squeaked before pushing me away with her free hand on my shoulder.  She didn’t pull away from me, though.

“You’re incorrigible,” she said, blushing furiously.  It made her cheeks such a nice color, with her brown skin and dark freckles.  Making her blush was becoming my new favorite pastime.

“Oh, absolutely.  But you asked.”  I trailed the fingers of my free hand along her jaw and down her neck.

“You’re like a horny teenager.”

I cocked my head at her.  “What?  How old are you?”  I had clocked her as being in her twenties.

“Twenty-nine.”

“Ooooh, cougar,” I purred, letting my free hand rest on her chest, the tips of my fingers on her collarbone.

Her brow furrowed.  “How old are you?”

“Nineteen.  Twenty on Friday.”

Her eyes went so round they practically bugged out of her face.  “Wait, you are a horny teenager.”

I shrugged one shoulder.  “You’re not the first older woman I’ve slept with.  And I’m old enough by human standards.  And you’re also human.  So, it’s not like any laws are being broken.”  I winked at her before leaning over to whisper in her ear.  “Well, maybe some indecency laws.”

This time she really did shove me, letting go of my hand and balling her fists at her sides.  “Sloane!”

I kept myself from smiling at how adorable she looked, in her oversized hoodie and stupid boots, getting flustered at me.  “Yes?”

She kept opening and closing her mouth, trying to form words without ever making any sounds. Finally, she grabbed the collar of my sweater and pulled me after her.  I followed her, bending over to keep from stretching out the knit of the fabric.

She grabbed the doorknob of the closest door and opened it, shoving me inside.  She followed me in, closing the door behind her.  I barely had time to register we were in some sort of linen closet before she put her hands on my shoulders and shoved me back. 

I hit a wall with a surprised exhale and then Amara was on me, one hand at the back of my neck, the other fumbling with the button of my jeans.  Desire was pooling in my abdomen, and I hissed out when she bit my bottom lip.  She pulled off, mouthing down my jaw.

“Here?” I panted, my hands already going to her pants.

Her voice was low and gruff.  “Why not?”

I’d fucked in worse places.  Who was I to say no?

Twenty minutes, and one orgasm apiece, later and we were emerging from the closet with more hickeys than when we went in.  Well, she was.  I healed mine just fine.

“That’s not fair,” she whined, looking down her shirt where I had left marks on her sternum just below the hemline.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” I shrugged.  “We . . .”

I trailed off, looking behind me as I heard footsteps.

A vampire that looked vaguely familiar walked towards us, having rounded the corner from the hallway we originally came through.  He was maybe one of the queen and king’s guards?  He looked like he was in his mid-forties with a shaved head and a gold earring in one ear.

“Amara,” he said when we had both turned to face him.  “Her Majesty has requested your presence.”

Amara’s pouting and annoyance immediately leveled into cool professionalism.  “Where?” she asked.  Her voice, which had been so high and desperate not ten minutes before, was smooth like honey.

“Prince Cyly’s study.  I can take you there if you’ve not been before.”

She nodded.  “That would be great.”   She glanced at me.  “See you later?”

“Definitely.”

She left with the guard.  As she did, I saw the tag on the back of her shirt sticking out, hanging from the exposed seam of the collar.

Whoops.  I had forgotten only one of us could see well enough in the dark to put our clothes on the right way out.  Oh well.  She would figure it out.

I felt good.  Amara really knew what she was doing with her . . . everything.  The endorphin rush was fantastic, and I was feeling hopeful for the first time since I’d come to this stupid castle.  I had gone almost twenty-four hours without something shitty happening.

I wasn’t too far from the kitchen.  Maybe I could continue that streak of good things by getting that  crème brûlée that Amara had told me about.  I know she had said we’d do it together, but I really didn’t want to go back to my room and eating would also release more feel-good chemicals, even as a vampire.  Not as many as for humans, but still enough.

More endorphins it was.

I entered the room next to the dining hall.  The sound of spatulas clanging against metal rang out from the pass-through window.

Greer ambled to the window.  When she saw me, she didn’t smile, but her features softened.  “Blood, lass?”

“No—I’ve heard something about a crème brûlée?”

At that, she did smile.  “I’ll have it brought out to ye.” 

“Thank you.”  I ducked into the dining hall.

The hall was empty save for two people sitting at one table, Alice and Cyly.  Alice had a fork in one hand, but her hands were above her head, in the middle of a story.  She looked up as I came in, and her face split in half with a grin.  “Sloane!”  She motioned for me to come sit with them.

I had not expected to be greeted so enthusiastically, but again, it was better than my previous experiences in this castle.

Cyly said hello.  He had a glass of blood next to him that was a quarter way empty.  It was just a regular glass like you would drink water from.  Made me wonder if wine glasses for blood were just for the aesthetic, like everything else about drinking blood.

I sat down next to Alice.  She had a plate in front of her with shrimp scampi and garlic bread.  It was freshly made and smelled amazing.

“I feel like the new kid getting invited to sit at the cool kids’ table,” I said.

Alice snorted.  “Cool kids?”  She hooked her thumb at Cyly.  “He’s a programmer, and I’m a weird art kid.”  It earned her a disapproving look from Cyly.

“Oh shit, I’m a weird art kid, too,” I said.  “Not interior design like what you do—I’m more canvas and paper-type art.  Drawing and shit.”

Alice held her hand out to me, palm out.  I high-fived her as Cyly said, “Al—” but he cut himself off.

Alice gave him a weird look.  “What?”

He shook his head.  “Nothing.”

Alice eyed him before shrugging and looking back at me.  “I love to draw.  What media do you like to use?”

“Oh, I’m a pencil and ink girl, but I’ll get out of bed for some good watercolors.”

“Ooh, watercolors.  I love those.  Have you tried oils?”

I shook my head.  “Even as a human, I hated the smell of the shit you use to cut it.  It made me lightheaded and —”

“Did you say ‘cut it’?” Alice interrupted, a smile dancing around the corners of her mouth. 

I paused.  “Yeah?  Isn’t that what, like, linseed oil is for?”

“Thinning.”  She threw her head back laughing.  It wasn’t cruel laughter.  It was genuine amusement.  “It’s not drugs.  You don’t cut it.”

I waved my hand at her, brushing it off.  “Whatever.  Anyway . . .”

We went on like that for a quarter of an hour before the doors to the kitchen opened and Greer came out with a plate with one of those fancy little white dishes that you put crème brûlée in.  My brain was telling me that they were called “ramifications”, but I knew that wasn’t right.

I thanked her as she set the bowl down.  There was a small sauce cup next to the bowl that had green jelly in it.  I realized that I didn’t actually know what gooseberries looked like.  I had assumed the jam would be red or purple like other berry jams.

“Any time, lass.”  She looked at Alice.  “Do you need anything?”

Alice smiled, shaking her head.  “No, thanks, Greer.”

“You know where to find me.”  She bustled back into the kitchen.

I grabbed the spoon from the plate excitedly.  I hadn’t had crème brûlée since my seventeenth birthday. 

I felt eyes on me and when I looked up, Alice and Cyly were both watching me.

“What?”  I scaled back my excitement in anticipation of being mocked for eating as a vampire.

Cyly shook his head.  “I’m just used to vampires ridiculing other vampires for eating.”

“Oh, yeah.  No, I don’t do that.”  I eyed him.  “You’re not gonna do that, right?”

“He makes life a living hell for anyone who gives his sister shit about it,” Alice said.  “I thought you’d have blood.”

“Blood does not interest me.  Dessert does.”  I cracked the crème brûlée with my spoon and took a bite.

It was everything Amara had said it was.  The texture was perfect, not too runny but not too thick, either.  The top was perfectly caramelized, and it crunched like a fucking potato chip, not too sticky.

I took another bite, this time dipping the edge of my spoon into the jam before eating it.

I didn’t think it was possible, but it was better this time.  The tartness and texture of the gooseberries, just thicker than the crème brûlée itself—this was what all those cooking shows talked about.  Texture and flavor profiles and shit.

“It’s so good, right?  I gotta get some when I’m done,” Alice said, stabbing her fork into her pasta with renewed interest.

“Amazing,” I sighed happily.

I took another few bites before my curiosity got the better of me, and I asked Cyly, “How do you make bigots’ lives a living hell?”

He shrugged.  “Depends on who it is.  Usually, it’s the child of someone of status or whatever, so I’ll assign them duties or stations they don’t want.”

“No, it’s not just that,” Alice shook her head, waving her fork at him dismissively.  “There was this one guy—son of some lieutenant—Cyly snuck into his room and unscrewed the ends of his curtain rods and filled them with fish skins and bones.  You know, all the stuff left after you clean them?  Screwed the end caps back on, hung it all back up, curtains and everything, and left.”

I gaped at Cyly, eyes so wide that they dried out almost immediately.  “Oh my god,” I whispered.  “Really?”

Cyly gave a small shrug of his enormous shoulders. 

“The guy had to change rooms entirely.  Eventually someone figured out what happened, but that room never smelled right again.  They turned it into a larder.  Connor smelled like fish for weeks.”  Alice laughed, going back to her food.

“Wait, Connor?” I asked, perking up.  “Does he hang out with some asshole named Nicholas and some other guy?  They look all posh and shit?”

Cyly had been avoiding eye contact, but hearing that, his eyes snapped back to me.  “Yeah.  Why?”

“He was giving Faolan shit in there the other day.”  I pointed toward the kitchens.  “Called him a daylighter and used the H-slur.”

Cyly’s jaw set, and his shoulders tensed, hands balling into fists at his sides.  “Sounds like they didn’t learn their lesson.”

“They did not,” I agreed.

“Oh, don’t worry, he’s already being punished,” a new voice said from behind us, drawing our attention.

It was Faolan, the door to the kitchens swinging shut behind him.  He wore a crimson hoodie with the outline of a raven on it, hands in the front pocket.  It was a good look juxtaposed with ripped black skinny jeans and knee-high leather boots with thick straps and buckles up the calves.

“What did you do to Connor?” Alice asked. 

Faolan sat next to Cyly.  “He wants to be a commanding officer, like his father.  His current rotation is with my guards and started this evening.”  Faolan grinned wickedly.  “He’s been cleaning weapons since.”

Cyly held up his fist, and he and Faolan bumped knuckles.  There was an easy camaraderie between them that I hadn’t expected.

“Digging the comfy goth look that you got going there,” I said, taking another bite of my dessert of the gods.

“You should see pictures of Faolan in the nineties,” Cyly said, laughter in the crinkles around his eyes.  “He got big into the—”

“Cyly, nooooo,” Faolan cut him off, nudging Cyly in the ribs with his elbow.  “We agreed to never speak of that time.”

Alice caught my eye and held her hands up by her head and mouthed, big mohawk.

I snorted.  “Oh yeah?  You fucked with nineties goth culture?”

“I’ve seen the pictures,” Alice said, leaning over conspiratorially.  “He looked so much like a vampire that other vampires didn’t believe he was a vampire.”

“Stoooooop,” Faolan said, tone just shy of a whine.  “It was the style, okay?  What about Cyly and his jumpsuits in the 80s?”

“I looked hella fly with a boombox,” Cyly replied, waving him off.  Hearing him say that in his deep baritone made me chuckle.

“What about you?” I asked Alice.  “You were, what, early-twenties in the nineties?”

“I was big into the whole bandana-as-a-shirt thing.  Crop tops.  Overalls.”

“I mean, you have the ass for it.”  I shrugged one shoulder.  Then I paused, realizing I had just told the future princess consort that she had a huge ass.

Alice preened.  “If I got it, flaunt it.”

The conversation continued, and I found it was easy to sit here, listening to Alice, Cyly, and Faolan talk, occasionally chiming in.  There was an easy friendship between them that reminded me of how I acted with my family.  It made me glad I had agreed to turn Alice.  This really was her home.

Greer came out again with three glasses of blood and two bowls of scampi.  She set one bowl in front of Faolan and the other next to him, the bench empty.  She put two glasses in front of him and one in front of me.  “You should drink some,” she said to me. 

She set another crème brûlée in front of Alice, winking at her.  “Knew you’d want one, lass,” she whispered as she took my bowl and Alice’s empty plate.

“Greer, can you be my mom?” Alice asked as Greer walked away.

Greer waved over her head.  “I have enough children.”  She disappeared through the door to the kitchen.

There was another door in the room, one that went out into the castle proper.  It opened, and I looked up to see Cailean enter.

I stood up, my body moving without me even thinking about it.  “Well, I should get going.”  I had no idea what I was going to do, but it wouldn’t be in here.  I stepped over the bench seat to leave. 

Cailean was in front of me before I could get far.  I jerked to a stop to keep from bowling into her.  The anger from the last time I saw her rekindled.  My fists clenched.

“Wait,” she said, reaching out before stopping herself.  It was like she had gone to grab my arm but thought better of it just before.  Probably a good move.  “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

“I’m not apologizing for yesterday.”

“I’m not asking you to.  I wanted to apologize to you.”

That drew me up short.  “You do?” 

She motioned for me to follow her.  I glanced at the others.  Cyly and Faolan didn’t do anything, but Alice gave me an encouraging smile.

Fine.

I followed her a few tables away.  Faolan and Cyly could still hear us, but at least we got some illusion of privacy.

“I apologize for my actions the night that I forced you in here.  I’ve taken it upon myself to learn more about neuropathy as it’s obvious I was lacking in a lot of knowledge.”

I didn’t say anything.

“I understand if you would like not to associate with me, but I would like to start off on better footing.”

“Better footing.”  I didn’t know what that meant and wasn’t sure if I wanted to.

“Yes.  Can we start over?”

I eyed her, debating whether this was worth it or not.  “Why do you care?”

“My partner has good things to say about you.  I would like to be on better terms.”  She nodded over to the table we had just left where Alice was telling some story.

“Your partner?”

“Faolan.”

I blinked.  “You’re with Faolan?”

“Yes.  He’s my partner.  I don’t think it’s a good idea to be on bad terms with one of the few vampires who doesn’t let other vampires call us halfborns.”

After another moment of debate, I said, “I can be on good terms with you, but I will still fight your brother if he’s an asshole again.”

“I’m not my brother’s keeper,” she shrugged.  “The consequences of his actions are his own.  Though, I have had a word with my mother about it, so I think it should be done.”

I bit the inside of my cheek before saying, “Alright.”

She held out a hand, and it took me a split second to realize she wanted to shake.

We shook hands.  As she pulled away, she said, “I don’t want to scare you away from the table.  It looked like everyone was having fun before I walked in.”

We were.  And if Cailean and I were starting over, I could stay here for a while longer.  It wasn’t like I had anything else to do.

“Alright.”

We went back to the table and sat down.  Cyly had his hand on his glass of blood and was complaining.  “I forgot about it, and now it’s cold.”

“Just ask Greer to reheat it,” Faolan was saying.  Cailean put her hand on his shoulder as she sat down, and he absently kissed her.  “It’s really not an issue.”

“I don’t want to bother her,” he shook his head, picking up the glass.  “She’s so busy.”

I nudged the glass that Greer had brought me over to Cyly.  “Here,” I said.  “Drink mine.”

Cyly shook his head.  “No, I—”

“I don’t care about the consistency of cold blood,” I said, holding out my hand for him to give me his glass.  “You do.  Mine is warm.  Give it.”

He looked between his glass and mine before he passed me his.  It wasn’t cold, just lukewarm.  He took mine.

I tipped the glass into my mouth and downed half of it.  I’d been pretty good about drinking regularly since I had gotten here but drinking more didn’t hurt.  If I kept on top of drinking blood, life went a bit smoother, I had found.

I wrinkled my nose as I set it down.  It was a little more bitter and sour than I was used to, but I also had only been drinking warm blood recently.  Karhi was horrified by how I drank cold blood, so it was rare that he let me do it anymore unless there was alcohol in it.

“So, did you two make nice?” Faolan asked, digging into his scampi.  He was looking between me and Cailean.  I had retaken my spot next to Alice.

“Yeah,” I said.  “We . . .”  I trailed, a wave of dizziness hitting me.  The fuck?

“Sloane?” Alice prompted.

I blinked hard, putting my hand to my head.  “Uh . . . what . . .”  I swayed forward, almost knocking over my glass before catching myself on the table.  My vision blurred and my limbs grew heavy like there were anvils pinning them down. 

My chest was tight, and it hurt.  It was familiar.  Too familiar.

“No,” I whispered, fear tearing through me.  “Dead man’s blood.”

“What?” Cailean shouted, standing up so quickly she almost knocked the table over.

A familiar cold gripped my heart.  My vision dipped, and I almost fell into the table.  No no no no no.  Not again.  Why?

“She’ll be okay, right?” I heard Faolan ask.  It sounded like it was coming from miles away.  “It can’t kill human vampires?  Sloane, you’ll be okay.  Just ride it out.”

It can’t kill human vampires.  As if that was a reason not to be terrified.  As if it didn’t mean that someone—one of the people in this room—couldn’t take advantage of it to hurt me.

A switch flipped, and my fear decayed into anger.

I screamed so loud that I felt something in my throat rupture.  A viridescent miasma clouded my vision, and everyone suddenly scattered with shouts of alarm.

Everything went green.