Slaying the Vampire Conqueror(41)

“Go change into real clothes,” he muttered. “Before the others see you.”

“Why? Are you jealous?”

Risky, to tease him like that when he was so obviously embarrassed. I wasn’t sure why I did it, other than an inexplicable, compulsive need to make light of the uncomfortable sensation I couldn’t shake.

He gave me a flat glare.

“No,” he said. “They don’t need any more distractions.”

“I’m a distraction? That’s very flattering. And here I thought you didn’t notice.”

A beat. An odd expression crossed his face. Almost a smile, maybe—albeit from someone who had never witnessed one before.

“I’m not the blind one,” he said.

I was so caught off-guard that a choked laugh escaped me without my permission, and maybe I imagined the glimmer of satisfaction that slipped from between the walls of Atrius’s ever-guarded presence.

No, he wasn’t the blind one.

I was, and yet I still was very conscious of his bare skin as he led me to the door.





“I noticed you didn’t come back to your room yesterday.”

It was a long, busy night. Atrius was preparing to march out again soon, leaving behind a skeleton force to keep control of Alka, which meant there was a lot to do here and not very much time to do it.

What I had done to help Atrius was outside of my usual abilities, and stretching myself like that had exhausted me thoroughly. My head ached for the rest of the day, and I was unusually clumsy because the threads around me were fuzzier and more difficult to grasp.

By the time I collapsed into the armchair in my bedchamber, I was more than ready to sleep. But at Erekkus’s comment, my head snapped up. I arched my brows.

“You noticed?”

“It’s my job to keep track of your comings and goings, actually.” He narrowed his eyes at me as he slumped into the chair across from mine. “Was wondering all night why you’re so tired.”

“When Atrius told you to keep track of my comings and goings, I don’t think he was telling you to keep track of that kind of coming.”

Erekkus snorted, then leaned forward. “So there was coming.”

Weaver help me. That’s what I got for stupid jokes.

“No. There was not.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

“He’s your friend. If you want to hear the tantalizing details of his sex life, go ask him. He’ll tell you the same thing I did.”

Erekkus let out a bark of a laugh. “Friend. Goddess, you think I’m Atrius’s friend. As if Atrius has friends.”

That snagged my interest. “You two seem to get along. He talks to you more than the others.”

“Perhaps, but it’s like…” He frowned, searching for the right word. “Do you have stray cats here?”

“Not many anymore, but I’m familiar.”

One of the first animals to go in the famines. Anything in the cities with meat on its bones was captured and eaten by starving families. Domestic animals never made much of a return after that.

“Well,” Erekkus said, “he’s like a cat. He doesn’t have friends. He just tolerates your presence.”

I said, with exaggerated disbelief, “And yours is the one most tolerable to him?”

He scowled at me. “I could say the same about you, Sister. Apparently he managed to ‘tolerate’ you all day long.”

“Nothing salacious. I swear.” I raised my hands and barely managed to stop myself before I added on the Weaver to that statement. “He just needed my help with something.”

“I’m sure he did. I imagine the dress helped. If one could call it a dress.”

I scoffed. “Not like that.”

“Told you,” Erekkus grumbled. “Just his type. Beautiful trouble.”

That was a little flattering.

I found myself wondering if whomever Atrius had been dreaming about had been beautiful trouble.

Erekkus rose with a series of grunts and groans. He made his way to the door and paused there.

“Well, whatever you did, thanks,” he said. “He was in a much better mood tonight.”

Then he left, closing the door behind him, and the room was silent. I crawled to my bed and fell into it. My body and soul were exhausted. I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to take me.

And then, in the secret silence, where no one could see me, I trailed my fingertips up my own arm. Just out of curiosity. Just to remember how it felt.

A meaningless touch.

Strange thing to crave.





A knock jolted me awake.

I forced myself upright, awareness settling around me. Someone was at my door. Not Erekkus. Not Atrius, either.

I rose and opened it, revealing one of Atrius’s errand boys.

“Apologies for waking you, seer,” he said. “He requests you.”

Nothing more needed to be said. I found Atrius near the fire again, slumped in that chair. This time, there was no talking. He gave me a mildly embarrassed look and opened his mouth, and I stopped him before the words made it out.

“It’s alright,” I said. “I know. You don’t need to explain.”

The compassion in my voice surprised me.