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“There’s something I need to tell you first.”
At least Heath seemed appeased by my last comment. There was no vampire more trustworthy than my own father. So, when I informed him of the corpse in the vineyard and he excused himself to make a phone call, I didn’t question it. If anyone could figure out what the heck had happened, Dad would be the one. I trusted my father.
Once I stepped inside my family’s modest Victorian home, I exhaled. Relieved I was finally home. I loved everything about our 1800’s Victorian from the outside with its historic porch and stone scrollwork and cone-shaped tower to the inside with its antique design and woodwork. Somehow, it all mingled with my mother’s modern-day furnishings. After my morning, it was comforting.
Mom, not so much.
The first thing I did was hug her while she paced nervously in the foyer. She promptly fussed over me every bit as much as Heath. Possibly the only thing he’d inherited from her. The morning news was on in the background, but no reports about my disappearance had surfaced. Just the typical quarrels over blood territory, farms, and an arson report of a Le Couvènte safe house. Good.
“Pay up,” Brian ordered Heath. “I told you Mom would cry.”
Behind me, Heath groaned, and I turned around, snapping at both boys. “Cut it out, you idiots.”
Brian coughed loudly, following with, “Princess.”
I preferred the title of queen. Someday soon if the Founder’s prophecy was true. It’s why I couldn’t panic. No matter how human I was, no matter how the empty white glove of a corpse still haunted me, I refused to crumble. Not if I wanted the throne. And certainly not if I was destined for it.
After diffusing the situation with Mom, I’d taken all I could. My family was beginning to cloy. Anxious to get upstairs, I alerted them. “I need a shower. We can sort this all out when I come back down,” I suggested.
“Yes,” Dad agreed as he swayed to Mom’s side, finished with his call. “Reina’s right. Now is not the time.” He paused, glancing back toward the front door. “Did Raoul leave?”
Heath folded his arms across his chest. “Yeah, he went home. Told me all he did was hunt a little further from his usual grounds, and he smelled Reina in the vineyard.”
“I’ll thank him later,” Dad said and nodded, his deep chocolate curls leaping from his brow to his cheek. “If he didn’t hunt so early in the morning…” He didn’t finish because it wasn’t necessary. I didn’t want to consider what could have happened either. The growl I’d heard still gnawed on my insides.
“Go on, Reina,” Dad excused me. “We’ll notify the school of your absence. It’ll be better for you to stay at home until we know more.”
He was right. For all we knew, someone from Le Couvènte High could have targeted me, though I doubted it. Most underestimated me. Few believed in the prophecy of some ancient Founder, even with his unprecedented foresight. At least I had some time on my hands to track down more information. I needed answers. At first, I considered telling Dad about my dream, but I was desperate for a shower first. It could wait-ish.
“She’s getting bossier,” I overheard Brian complain as I headed up the stairs.
“By the way, Brian, you stole the tiramisu I was saving for myself last night.”
“No, I didn’t!” I heard Brian guffaw at Heath’s accusation.
I smirked. I actually stole it, but Heath would nag Brian about it for days while I reveled. Youngest girl of two brothers…no one ever suspected me.
“You really shouldn’t have said she was right,” Heath directed his words to Dad. “We’ll never hear the end of it now.”
It was the last thing I heard.
In the northeast corner of the house facing the street was my room where I did a little jig. Nothing like a brush with death to get your blood pumping and heart rejoicing. Shuffling out of my pajamas, I dumped them on the floor, skidded into my personal bathroom, and turned around to eye the bruises. Worse than I imagine. My flesh was dark but puckered like violets budding from beneath blood vessels. Some of my skin was enflamed and sore. I touched one mark and winced, recoiling with a spoken ‘Ow!’. If Heath found out about this, he would burst all his blood vessels. I knew I should tell Dad, but I was afraid he’d keep me from school longer. The last thing I wanted was confinement. No one would ever shut me in a cage. Not even my own family.
Over the years, countless vampire and wolf critics alike had opinionized that my parents should have given me up for adoption. A human didn’t belong in their world. Even if plenty other humans managed to coexist with vampires in small pockets here and there. Thanks to the world growing more diverse every day, vampires had managed to disguise themselves in pockets of Sanguinarian subcultures throughout this country or in blood gangs with human familiars in Europe. Wolf packs were a little different thanks to their compulsory methods. I wrinkled my nose at the thought of their human blood sports in remote regions.
Not in Le Couvènte.
Turning on the hot water, I braced myself and stepped inside the shower. When the scalding water hit my shoulders, I shrieked. I washed away the smell of decaying flesh, the touch of icy morbid corpse, the flecks of blood that had stained my fingers from the rose.
For years, I’d held my own with my brothers. I wasn’t bossy despite Brian’s opinion. He was just the atypical middle child who enjoyed dominating me. No, I was confident. I’d worked hard to own that confidence, sifting through my memory, recalling numerous dangers I’d encountered since I was a child. Accidental, unintentional brushes of death from my family whether my brothers rowing nearby or leaving their kills behind, even drinking animal blood from a stainless-steel bottle Heath left in the family fridge once.
This morning was different. Aside from empty hissing threats and rumors, this was the first targeted brush with death. It stung. I couldn’t decide what was worse. The water blazing my garish flesh like pins and needles dipped in fire or how close I’d come to joining the corpse this morning. The corpse. I still didn’t know why, but the bruises felt like the polar opposite. It didn’t make sense.
After getting out, I drew images on the steamy mirror. Grapes…and blood. I recounted all images from my dream: a white dress, fangs sinking into her neck, and a rose tossed like an afterthought.
I needed to tell my father about my nightmare.
After changing into some black printed-lace leggings and a long, chunky sweater, ignoring my ragged nest of wet curls, I hurried down the stairs so I could share about my dream. The bruises would come later. Baby steps.
“For all we know, this could be an ability manifesting, perhaps even prompted by your subconscious…” Dad commenced the discussion in our family’s living room with me at the center―nothing new in our family―, “If so, I should notify the Council.”
Would I possibly get to meet the Queen? What a thrill! No, not under these conditions I internally chastised myself. A human girl was murdered. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know her. Someone knew her. She was someone. Why did I find her? My blood froze at the memory of two holes in her neck. The feeling of ice on my hands. I tempered the memory, warmed it with emotional fire. However selfish and idealistic, it was far better to dwell on the prophecy instead of a dead body. My goal was far reaching, considering I was a human in a society of vampires and werewolves all descendent from great lines of noble birth. Although my parents were from prestigious clans and had ruled as Queen and King, people still looked down on their union. More than anything, I wanted to abolish that stigma. Perhaps the bloodlines would never mingle or prejudice disappear. But maybe…just maybe we could coexist in peace and respect instead of just coexisting.
And I’d annihilate any petitions invoking the right to human blood just as the Le Couvènte Queens of the past had done before me, honoring our ancestors, our Founders.
Few still believed that the weakest member of the city, a human, would ever become Queen.
I folded my arms across my chest and wondered out loud, “So
, some weird sleepwalking thing?”
“That conveniently conceals your blood scent so no one else can follow?” Like a bishop capturing a pawn, Heath swooped in with his counter. His posture was stiff as he lowered onto the couch’s armrest next to me. “And with the bloody rose, the same victim we can’t simply ignore it. And leaving the victim right near an animal blood farm is a bold move.” Was it a message?
Dad regarded Heath. “We don’t have enough information yet. We shouldn’t jump to conclusions yet.”
Heath’s prickly countenance settled before Dad. Little wonder. Dad had that ability in more ways than one.
I shrugged before leaning against the edge of the couch. “It doesn’t feel like an ability.”
“We don’t feel our abilities,” my mother interjected, defensive. Always so ruled by her instincts. “They’re inside us at birth, and when the time is right, they just happen.”
“But our emotions influence our abilities,” I challenged.
Brian nudged me with his elbow. “So, what are you feeling, sis?”
“Confusion? Annoyance. Frustration.”
“And why are you frustrated?” Dad asked, pacing with hands behind his back.
Heaving a sigh, I fingered my hair and confessed, “I turned seventeen months ago. Shouldn’t there be signs by now? Something? Wolves can turn as babies. Vampires develop their abilities when they’re children. And I’m―”
“Totally human,” Brian reminded me before stretching his arms out, yawning. “Can I be excused? It’s still early, and I was going to join the pack for a morning pick-me-up hunt.”
Mom’s eyes pounced on Brian, threatening him with her famous Medusa-glare. I loved how I’d inherited that. “No, you may not be excused. Your sister’s fate is at stake.”
Brian sulked and sunk deeper into the couch to avoid her stone-turning gaze before nodding in my direction. “You’re all overreacting. She’s fine, isn’t she?” I wondered how Brian would react if he saw my bruises. He was carefree but practical. However, he had a temper when it came to protecting his family.
“Only thanks to Raoul,” Heath mentioned and rose.
“Let him go if he wants,” I tried to persuade Mom. “I’m fine, really.” Me? I was just laid back. Semi-rational. But Brian had a point. There should’ve been signs by now. Some still stopped and stared, waiting to see if I could fly or grow fangs or become a wolf or turn straw into gold or something. At school, I had an entourage of detractors and suck-ups. If the prophecy weren’t common knowledge, I wouldn’t have had a care in the world, but with the pressure building, I was getting impatient. And restless.
“Reina.” Dad suggested, “You should get something to eat and rest. I’ve already spoken with Enton Carolton. The Council will deal with the matter.” Enton was the head Council Member, the mouthpiece.
“Okay.” I squeezed my shoulders together, my belly grumbling. “I think I’m going to make some pancakes.”
Brian stood, and cracked his neck from side to side before flexing his muscles. “It’ll be raw meat for me this morning. As bloody as I can get.”
I nodded and poked my brother’s bulging bicep. “Have fun with that.”
“And no dragging any more dead carcasses home,” Mom ordered, warning finger raised like a pirate flag.
I bit one side of my lip from the uncomfortable memory. Unbeknownst to anyone, Brian had dragged half a deer cadaver home and left it behind the shed until he could finish it. Only human in Le Couvènte lounged, innocent, on the hammock. When the wild wolves started fighting over the bloody prize, I’d never climbed a tree so fast. Heath and Brian got some good sport out of it, Mom got a good yelling at Brian, and Dad was just happy to be working. Mom and Heath thrived on drama, Dad repelled it, and Brian was just… indifferent. It’s why I tried to remain laid back. I’d learned to let the supernatural roll off my shoulders. Except this time, I might have to bear it. Or fight it. I didn’t want to think about that last option.
After breakfast, I locked myself in the library. On my way over, I peeked through the gap of Heath’s door to see him sketching. His method to release tension. Looked like he was designing a costume for Le Couvènte High’s upcoming production. Brian didn’t share our love of Broadway. Sometimes, I still let Heath use me as a fashion model.
The library was my special place. The mahogany mantle over the vintage fireplace. The balcony with its coffee-colored railings edging in a semicircle. The floor-to-ceiling windowed rotunda on the opposite side. I loved everything. When he first bought the house before Heath was born, my father contributed the library. Without his books, he couldn’t survive. And I was my father’s daughter.
I didn’t care that I was stereotypical from my love of Jane Austen, Broadway musicals, and pumpkin spice everything. Let the jocks love their sports. Let the goths love their chains. Let the nerds love their tech. Growing up with one brother who was a fashionista and a foodie and another brother who loved horror and old cars, I wouldn’t begrudge anyone over their fandoms. Myself included.
No pleasure reading today. I needed to know more about the prophecy. Unfortunately, my research yielded little results. So much about our history. As far as I could tell, we were the only society with three races living together.
After hearing the door open, I stepped down from the window seat on the upper level and moved toward the balcony railing. Nodding down at him, I didn’t close my book to ask, “What’s up?”
“I spoke with Enton,” he explained, gliding a hand up the banister toward me. “Reina, it looks like your wish for a meeting with our monarchs will come sooner than you anticipated.”
Part of me wanted to shrink, intimidated. The other part of me reveled―my heart a bonfire that my blood wanted to dance around. I planted my hands solid on my book to ask, “Who else knows?”
“Only the Council.”
Good. If it was public knowledge, I’d never get a moment’s peace at school. And the last thing anyone wanted was a copycat.
“When will I meet the Queen?”
Chapter Three
The Invitation
School finally!
It still felt weird having my brothers shadow me. Weird but necessary. Heath was twenty-six and Brian was twenty-three. They both had college degrees but were permitted at the high school as my bodyguards. The alternative was professionals. Not a chance. Homeschooling was out. Too extroverted and too stubborn for it. Once, Dad had opted for living outside Le Couvènte so I could go to a “normal” school, but Mom wouldn’t hear of it. This was her home. And if anyone outside Le Couvènte discovered our family’s secrets…
As I traveled to my locker, I noticed the members of the Snowden pack congregating around each other, proud sneers directed toward the Minneli clan. A twinge of righteous fury invaded my heart.
Instead of personality cliques in Le Couvènte High, we had clans and packs. Wolf packs like the Snowden one looked down on the Minneli vampire clans, any vampire clans. My brothers had yet to join a clan, which was unusual for their age, but our family’s royal status didn’t render them pariahs. I wasn’t exactly a pariah. More like a science experiment of different blood types poured into a flask. Everyone couldn’t wait to see if I would explode. I was one of them.
I slipped a history book from our library into my backpack and closed my locker. Yesterday, my search had turned up nothing. I could find no trace of the original prophecy ― just bits of it and speculation from Le Couvènte scholars. I even spent hours sifting through every article I could find about my birth dating back nearly eighteen years ago.
Only Council members had access to the annals of the High Library where the prophecy existed. I still didn’t know which Founder had written it; since they were all in sleep stasis, it was impossible to ask them. When I met with the Queen, I fully intended to learn if I could procure a special visit.
As my brothers escorted me to first period, wolves on one side, vamps on the other, I could almost feel the rus
h of air from each race flaring their nostrils. I steadied my nerves when silver veins protruded from the vampires’ throats, their pupils dilating. I could feel the cloying heat from the wolf bodies. A couple even growled, vampires hissed, but one glower from Heath and one warning snarl from Brian was all it took for tightened postures to shrink. My eyes didn’t linger, didn’t challenge. I forced them to stay fixed ahead and willed myself to shut up. If I tried to speak now, any words would sound cracked.
Swallowing back the dryness in my throat, I scanned Heath for any alarms, but once we’d passed the rows of other students, he relaxed and reached into his pack for a water bottle. Tinted. Blood, no doubt. Since was a born vampire and not bitten, he could also eat and sleep and change his age as he saw fit. Not to mention that born vampires often possessed more than one ability. However, bitten vampires like Raoul had one great advantage: they were much harder to kill. Raoul had seen many battles.
After swinging by my locker to grab one of my books, I felt a vibration from my tote. Reaching for my phone, I knotted my brows and read the text. Anonymous number.
Well done, your highness. 1174.
I didn’t fully subscribe to teen texting code, but I knew a party invite when I saw one.
Blood & choc. themed. Time to come out to play, little human. BYOB
The last part was a joke. This was Le Couvènte. Bring your own blood. I rolled my eyes. Other than blood, wine was the most popular beverage thanks to the vineyards scattered all over Le Couvènte. Similar to Europe, the legal drinking age here was sixteen. Most of the transportation in Le Couvènte existed in the forms of flying or running in packs. No flying while intoxicated laws existed. Clans and packs only owned cars as collector’s items; they drove rarely―most of the time just an occasional trip to San Francisco. Since my parents owned vineyards, I’d helped myself to a weekend glass of wine at the dinner table since I was sixteen.
A second later, I heard Heath’s and Brian’s phones ping.