“But if our guests here turn out to be right about Nethissis, I look forward to your apologies,” Kalon said.
No one answered, but the atmosphere changed around the table. He’d touched a soft spot—the possibility that they were wrong, and that Nethissis had, in fact, been murdered on the palace grounds. I liked Kalon more and more. If he maintained his brazenness later down the road, then he was definitely a worthy ally.
I could see why Esme liked him, despite her constant denials.
Esme
A couple of days went by without much ado.
Kalon was busy looking after Trev, following his turning, so I hung out with Valaine and Tristan, investigating various aspects of the Darklings and the Red Threads. About ten of the captured Red Threads had succumbed to their wounds, leaving us with twelve left to interrogate. Unfortunately, most of them were comatose, their bodies taking a while to recover from the damage.
Valaine had been on edge about this, feeling rather guilty, but both Tristan and I had assured her that she bore no blame for what had happened. The Red Threads had gone from trying to kidnap us to trying to kill us in the span of minutes—all we’d done had been solely in self-defense.
Amane and Amal were together again, despite Ridan’s repeated objections. He’d wanted to come along. He’d even considered sneaking into the interplanetary travel bubble with an invisibility spell, but Kailani had talked him out of it. In all fairness, the only danger here was the Darklings. The Aeternae had been nothing but welcoming, despite their pride and obviously flawed empire. The twins were working double time now, focusing on both the Black Fever and the day-walking protein. We hoped to have results on both fronts within a few weeks.
As night settled over the realm, I found myself wandering through the palace halls. I’d left Tristan and Valaine in the library to go over Darkling documents, hoping they might find something they’d maybe missed before. I doubted that, but it didn’t hurt to try.
I’d barely seen Kalon since our group dinner with Thayen. I wondered how Trev was coming along. In fact, my curiosity regarding the turning process was reaching peak levels. Naturally, I ended up outside the guest rooms in the west wing, following familiar scents—Kalon’s, to be specific.
I stopped outside one door that beckoned to me in particular. Rimian maids moved up and down the hallway, occasionally checking the empty rooms and changing the decorative flower bouquets as they pushed the floral cart along. They stole the occasional glance at me, but they didn’t object to my presence, even though I was just standing there, doing and saying nothing.
Amber lights flickered in the shell-shaped wall sconces. They played with shadows along the silk-thread wallpaper, which repeated maritime motifs of triple anchors and foamy sea waves and elegant catamarans, each beautifully embroidered into the delicate fabric. These quarters were usually reserved for naval personnel, such as Aeternae ship captains and high-level Nalorean officials from both Nalore’s and Visio’s harbors.
The time I’d spent away from Kalon had given me the opportunity to seriously think about him. About me. About what we were doing together and where it might lead. I had no answer whatsoever, only the hope that I would see Kalon again soon. He’d grown on me surprisingly fast. His personality was versatile, and it kept me on my toes. I liked it. I liked his sense of humor, too, and the way he always made me out to be the bigger and stronger and maybe crazier out of the two of us.
I missed our sparring. Kalon didn’t cut me any slack in the training room, and I appreciated that, because he made me want to become a better version of myself. I missed our conversations, too, and I wondered what kind of secrets he was keeping—because Kalon was anything but an open book. I was perpetually intrigued by him.
My thoughts had drawn me so far from reality that I hadn’t even heard the door open behind me until I heard Kalon. “Can I help you?”
He startled me, and I yelped like a scared little dog, jumping back as if my ass was on fire. It only made him laugh, while I tried to catch my breath.
“You should consider putting a bell around your neck so people can hear you coming,” I muttered, feeling the heat spread through my cheeks. It took him a while to regain his composure, but I waited patiently, already thoroughly embarrassed.
“Sorry. Your reaction was just so funny,” Kalon finally said.
“I wasn’t planning on standing by the door forever,” I replied. “I was going to knock.”
Eventually.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked, concern briefly shadowing his blue eyes.
I felt bare before him, even though that wasn’t something he intentionally made me feel. It was all in those eyes, completely out of his control.
“Nothing wrong. I was just wondering how Trev is coming along,” I said, glancing past him through the half-open door. “Is he okay?”
He motioned for me to come in. “See for yourself.”
I joined him inside. Trev got up from one of the sofas, wearing a black leather tunic with the Visentis emblem on his shoulder—a silver half-moon with a single sapphire in the middle. I’d seen it on Petra’s outfits, as well as on other Visentis family members I’d come across in the city and in the Blood Arena.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to bite your head off,” Trev said, then bowed politely.
“I see you’re wearing the Visentis emblem,” I replied, smiling.
“He’s part of the family now.” Kalon chuckled, patting Trev on the back.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
Trev straightened his back. “Amazing. Check these babies out,” he said, baring his teeth. The fangs came out with a pearlescent glimmer. “Oh, and these,” he added, putting his hands up to show me his retractable claws. His fingers trembled whenever the claws came out. “It still hurts a little…”
“It takes some getting used to if you’re not born into it,” Kalon replied. “We’ve learned to ignore the aching discomfort. It’s part of who we are.”
“Yeah, the same goes for vampires,” I said. “Weeks passed before I got used to extending and retracting my claws and fangs without whimpering in the slightest. What about the hunger? I’m told there’s great hunger when one awakens as an Aeternae.”
Trev and Kalon exchanged conspiratorial glances, both equally amused.
“I’d kill for some food right now, but apparently the urges will die out, eventually,” Trev replied. “I can only drink blood for sustenance now. I’ve got that under control, though.”
“He won’t be going on a rampage anytime soon,” Kalon said. “It’s why I’ve stayed with him during this transitional period. With the right guidance and support, a newly turned Aeternae can resume their social life in a snap.”
I nodded slowly, genuinely impressed. Trev did look a little different, too, besides the claws and fangs. His features had shifted, ever so slightly, becoming sharper. The shadows of his cheeks were deeper. And his eyes were no longer brown, but something closer to red.
“What happened to your eyes?” I asked.
Kalon looked at Trev, then back at me. “Oh, it happens sometimes during the transition. The Aeternae gene sort of takes over and starts tweaking things here and there.”
“For what it’s worth, my sight is infinitely sharper,” Trev said. “My senses are on fire. I’m hearing more, smelling more… It’s incredible. No wonder the Aeternae are exquisite predators. Their bodies certainly rise to the occasion.”
“So does your body now,” Kalon replied.
