“She didn’t say anything else. And we were mostly concerned with the goddess.”
Suspicion coiled around me, but Blade clearly had no other information on my sister’s companion. At least nothing he was willing to share if we refused an alliance.
Given the blood left at the murder scene, it made sense for Vesta to be genetically unique. Which might be why Greed coveted her. And was the first aspect I’d wondered about when both demon and werewolf blood had been found. This information made me now question if Vesta’s interest in the portal on Pride’s land had something to do with a potential inability for her to travel to the Shadow Realm. If my theory was correct and she was genetically unique, perhaps her demon side made that impossible. Much like the new wolf Antonio had mentioned.
While Blade and Wrath silently battled, I studied the vampire more closely.
Strong brows framed those piercing crimson eyes, his lashes thick enough to make anyone envious. His hair was a bit too long to be fully tamed and looked like he’d carelessly combed it before arriving here. Full lips curved in a half smirk as if he’d just recalled a particularly humorous joke he hadn’t bothered to share.
Perhaps the amusement was due to the cunning glint in his eyes—the one that hinted that plenty of victims had fallen for that roguish charm.
His black suit jacket was fitted to his well-proportioned frame, and his white linen shirt and matching cravat were a surprise. Given his appetite for blood, I would have imagined he’d choose to wear all black. Dark trousers hugged muscular legs and were tucked fashionably into freshly buffed riding boots. There was an air about him that said he could dedicate himself to being either your truest protector or your worst enemy based on a whim.
Even standing there, spine straight under the weight of Wrath’s scrutiny, he gave the impression that his jacket was seconds away from being discarded. His collar and cravat seemed to chafe, not because they were uncomfortable or lacking finery, but because the vampire did not appear to want to play pretend. He looked ready to shed all civility and embrace the cruel being he was underneath the refinement. Or perhaps he was simply thirsty and wished for a drink after his travels. If he was the emissary, I wondered what the less diplomatic vampires were like.
Wrath didn’t move, but there was no mistaking the threat he posed while he let the silence stretch uncomfortably. My husband, unlike my impression of Blade, did not act on whims. He was cold calculation and brutal efficiency. Once he decided to make a move, others could either retreat or die. If they grew angry in the process, all the better. Their emotions would feed his sin.
My prince finally allowed his focus to briefly drift over to the witch before he responded to the vampire’s earlier proclamation. “You thought bringing her was the best path to peace?”
“I—”
The demon prince raised a hand. With the way Blade cut his answer off, you’d think Wrath had held up a dagger. “Or was she merely a secondary distraction?”
Blade hesitated for less than a beat, but it was enough to notice that Wrath had caught him off guard. “We thought—”
“You thought to come here, to my House, under the false pretense of peace so you could take what you’d been after all along.” Wrath cocked his head. “Are you truly that dumb? Or desperate? You know who I am. What I’m capable of. So perhaps it’s arrogance and stupidity.” My husband stood, his displeasure forcing the air to frost. Ice coated the stairs on the dais. “And you dared to stand here, lying to my face, and believed you’d get away with it.”
Sursea stepped forward, reaching for something she’d hidden up her sleeve. A weapon, no doubt. She seethed as she yanked a blade free. “Your wife will—”
Wrath barely glanced in her direction as he froze her in place just as he’d done to the werewolves who’d attacked us.
It was one thing to see a wolf frozen solid, and another thing entirely to see a person encased in a thick block of ice. She’d been caught midscream, her expression twisted in pain or fury. We weren’t lucky enough for her to be dead—she was immortal, according to Nonna’s stories—but at least she would be tamed for a while, frozen in misery.
I didn’t feel sorry for Sursea in the least. She never should have attempted to threaten me. Least of all after she’d been the one to curse Wrath and take us from each other in the first place.
As if he’d been thinking the same thing, remembering the night I’d been stolen by the curse, the temperature plummeted again, the room taking on a blue hue as if the walls themselves were chilled to the bone. All the torches and oversized fireplace made sense now, the air was so frigid, so brutal, that death lurked like a dog scenting scraps outside a butcher’s shop. The fires gave a slight bit of respite from an otherwise unforgiving atmosphere.
Wrath had been well and truly pushed beyond his sin.
And the vampire recognized that. He held his hands up in surrender. “I don’t want war.”
“Considering my elite forces just took out several vampires camped along the outskirts of my circle, and a few within castle grounds, I think otherwise.”
I kept my expression neutral, not wanting to let my surprise show. Logically, I understood there had been no time for Wrath to share what he’d learned, but I wished he’d mentioned something before they arrived.
Not hindered by the ice that now coated the floor, Wrath slowly descended the steps, the apex predator on the prowl. “Is there anything you’d like to confess? Now is the time.”
Calculation flickered in Blade’s otherwise emotionless eyes. “I brought protection. Everyone knows traveling across the realm is dangerous. Lesser demons, errant souls.”
The Prince of Wrath now stood within arm’s reach of the vampire. Tension filled the throne room, and I fought the urge to stand beside my husband. This was his battle, his move.
The demon soldiers seemed to feel the same compulsion—perhaps it was the sin they all aligned with. Their need to unleash their anger and pummel anyone brazen enough to lie to their king. Given the way Wrath cocked his head, I imagined that was exactly what Blade had done.
Stupid. It was a move he’d no doubt regret. Though I was hardly sorry for him, either.
“You were accompanied by one of the most vicious creatures in the land. How many vampires did you truly need to protect you?” His gaze flicked to the frozen witch. “Anir?”
Wrath’s second-in-command allowed a slow, nasty smile to spread across his face at his king’s summons. The demon nodded, indicating it was time to reveal whatever they’d previously discussed. As a former fighter, Anir had likely been waiting for this moment, hoping it would come to this. The human bowed, then left the chamber, the soles of his fine boots slapping against the marble. My husband turned his attention back to the vampire.
“Last chance, Blade. Tell me the true purpose of your visit and you’ll walk away unscathed. Lie and you’ll suffer for it.”
Defiance fell over the vampire like a royal mantle. “I told you. I’m here to form an alliance with you for my prince. Unlike the goddess of death, we do not want to tear this realm apart.”
“Very well.”
Wrath’s tone was deceptively calm, crisp. No more threatening than a few snowflakes falling lazily from the sky on an otherwise cloudless day. I saw the truth of what it meant and fought a shudder. It was not the soothing sort of calm that indicated peace or serenity; it was the kind of charged tranquility that made the hair on my arms stand on end. Wrath’s cool demeanor was meant to lure his adversary into a false sense of security as the true threat approached.
We were in the eye of the storm now, teetering on the precipice of what promised to be the worst of what was to come. And the vampire had no idea he’d started an avalanche that would soon bury him.
A few moments later, the double doors burst open, and Anir strode in ahead of a chained prisoner. Guards flanked the young blonde woman, swords at the ready.
My features remained impassive as they approached the dais, but I watched Blade out of the corner of my eye. He’d flinched the second he saw the girl. Wrath caught the action, too; he allowed the barest hint of a smile to curve his lips.
“The prisoner, your majesty.” Anir stepped to the side and allowed the chained woman to approach. Before she smiled wide enough to show fangs, her red eyes gave her away as a vampire. Despite the rough spun dress she wore, the haughty tilt of her chin indicated a high standing member in their court. She ignored Blade and moved her narrowed gaze to me. Something like alarm crossed her features before she’d adopted that indolent expression again.
Wrath did not bother with introductions or pleasantries. “This was one of the vampires my forces found on the grounds of House Wrath. Are you certain there isn’t anything you’d like to tell me now, Blade?” The vampire clenched his teeth together, slowly shaking his head. Wrath looked at the prisoner with deadly fire in his eyes. “Put the charm on.”
Anir held up a strange necklace. A teardrop ruby the size of a robin’s egg hung from a gold chain that looked to be woven with some organic material. An uncomfortable feeling had me sitting back, not wanting to get near whatever magic sparked from the charm.