“This way,” Vance said. The serpent guard stepped aside to let us pass into a hallway just as grand as the entry. If Vance was nervous to be here, he was hiding it well.
“Why is it all so pretty?” I asked, disgusted by the contrast between what I saw and what I knew happened here.
“If we had gone down the other hall, you would have seen a black door, and then an end to all pretense, since that’s where the common slaves sleep and do their daily work,” Vance answered. “This is the wing where the trainers and most respected guests reside. If luxury didn’t appeal to them, they wouldn’t make such an effort to rule.”
“Do we need an appointment?” I asked as we turned a corner and entered a hall lined with closed doors. This didn’t seem like a place visitors were welcome.
“If we wanted to speak to Mistress Jeshickah personally, we would need an appointment,” Vance answered, “but one of the trainers is probably available.”
“And you know where they are, and can just knock on the door.”
Whatever my voice held—terror, judgment, shame, reluctance?—it was enough to make Vance stop in his tracks and turn to me. “Yes, I can,” he answered, looking uneasy. “And I will, because I want to get this over with as much as you do.”
As we walked down the hallway, a woman approached us. She was petite, and stepped softly, her bare feet making no sound on the plush carpet. The dress she wore was simple, with ties at the throat and around the waist giving it much of its shape, but what caught my eye was the thin black band around her neck.
The collar was perhaps half an inch wide, and closed with a buckle that anyone could reach up to remove.
The only thing more disconcerting than the ink-black mark of ownership was the way she dropped her gaze and gave a half curtsy when she noticed Vance.
Vance hesitated, and he looked back at me with clear discomfort before he asked her, “Is Jaguar in?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I believe Master Jaguar is occupied with his new project,” the woman replied, her voice soft and her gaze never rising from the floor. “He gave instructions that he was not to be disturbed this evening.”
“Sir?” I echoed. It was hard to imagine anyone addressing Vance in such a way, but here was proof right in front of me.
“What about Taro?” Vance asked, ignoring me.
The woman shook her head. “He and Master Varick are in a conference with—”
“Never mind,” Vance interrupted. “Kadee, we might need to wait a while after all. I’m sorry.”
“I believe Master Gabriel is in, if you need to speak to one of the trainers,” the woman suggested.
Vance shook his head, and told her, “You can go.”
“I don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary,” I said. “Is Gabriel actually worse than any of the others?”
I understood why Vance didn’t want to face Gabriel so soon after learning about Alasdair. I didn’t want to look him in the eye either, but that didn’t mean the others would actually be any kinder or easier to deal with.
The decision was made for us as one of the doors burst open, making us jump as it slammed into the wall and nearly bounced back into its frame. I thought at first that the slave we had just spoken to had fallen, but then I realized that she had gone swiftly to her knees.
The first person to emerge, however, was not a vampire.
“Damn you to Hell and back!” Misha spat as she stumbled into the hallway.
No! I wanted to scream. The serpiente must have captured her again, somehow, or else she single-handedly decided to assault Midnight. Misha’s fair skin was darkened with bruises and raised with welts.
The man who came to the door did not seem concerned with Misha’s anger. Instead, he looked amused, especially as he glanced past her and noticed Vance and me in the hallway.
Misha turned to fix her moss-green eyes on me with a look that should have been hot enough to spark. Rage, hatred … madness?
“What is she doing here?” Vance demanded, insanely, of the trainer.
“Vance, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” the vampire replied, “but you know perfectly well I won’t discuss another’s private business.”
People had told me many times that the trainers were handsome, and terribly charming when they wanted to be. I didn’t think this one was trying to be charming, exactly, but it would have been hard to imagine him as evil if I didn’t know that some of the most beautiful serpents were also often the most poisonous.
“She’s not …” I only made it halfway through the question, because having the trainer look directly at me made my stomach twist.
“She’s free to go,” he answered. “Misha, it looks like I have another appointment waiting, so we’ll have to continue this conversation another time.”
Misha drew a deep breath and asked in a carefully even tone, “But we have our deal, right?”
“As agreed,” he answered.
“That’s all that matters.”
She turned on her heel, but before she could leave, I posed Vance’s question again. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” she snapped back. “We’re camped just a few hours to the south. I’ll see you there when your business here is done.”
She said business like it was something dirty. Since that was exactly how I felt about this whole situation with the Shantel, the word cut deep, silencing me while Misha stormed past us without further question or explanation.
The trainer continued our conversation as if my brief exchange with Misha had been irrelevant. “Vance, please do introduce me to your friend,” he said.
“This is Kadee Obsidian,” Vance answered. “Kadee, this is—” He stopped there.
The vampire chuckled, and offered his hand to me. “Gabriel,” he introduced himself, though I had already guessed as much. He glanced at Vance as he said, “They say children of Obsidian don’t use titles, but old habits die hard, don’t they?”
Vance nodded tightly. When guards in the market talked about the vampires, they always used titles: Mistress or Master for Jeshickah and her trainers, and Sir, Lord, or Lady for the others. It wasn’t a leap to imagine that Vance had been taught the same way.
I didn’t have the nerve to refuse to shake the vampire’s hand, though I wanted to. Gabriel was the one who had hired us to capture Alasdair. He was surely the one who still caused the night terrors that brought shrieks to Misha’s throat in the middle of the night. And in the end, he was the one in whose not-so-tender “care” Shkei had died.
I wanted his hand to be cold and clammy, confirmation of his monstrous nature, but instead was surprised to discover that his skin was almost as warm as Vance’s. People said vampires were dead, pretty corpses preserved and animated by magic, but if so, why were they warm? Why weren’t they as cold as dead flesh should be?
“Is Misha all right?” I asked. He had already refused to tell Vance what Misha was doing here, so I didn’t ask about that. I wanted confirmation that she hadn’t been sold back in to Midnight. Was “free to go” temporary?
“Your would-be future queen is fine,” Gabriel replied. “She came here of her own free will and is leaving the same way, albeit with a few more bruises, but that’s the cost of asking favors sometimes. Now, what did you need?”
Not a favor, I hope.
“We’ve come to relay a message from the Shantel,” Vance said, “and possibly to propose a deal on their behalf. Do you have time?”
“I always have time to make deals with your guild,” Gabriel replied. “You do offer the prettiest toys. Vance, did you ever meet my Ashley?”
Vance nodded as the once princess of the avians came to the door.
She was as lovely as I remembered her, with creamy fair skin and hair and eyes the color of beaten gold. The gown she wore was elegant, deep crimson velvet that flattered her form without being lewd. It was still obscene, though, because it perfectly matched the leather collar around her throat. If she
recognized me as one of the ones responsible for her capture, she made no indication.
She was named after the first queen of the avians, I thought. Malachi had told me that one day, while we were stalking her, waiting for our opportunity. You had to take even that away from her, didn’t you?
“Beautiful, fetch our guests some refreshments, and let Jeshickah know that they’ve come to negotiate for the Shantel,” Gabriel commanded the hawk. His slave. “We’ll meet in the library. Vance, I believe you know the way? I’ll join you as soon as I have cleaned up.” He held up a hand, and I realized for the first time that there was blood streaked across the back of it. His black clothing was probably hiding more. Was it all Misha’s?
Whose did I want it to be?
THE LIBRARY HAD a large conference table, and then more books than I had ever imagined. Were they history, philosophy, or just stories intended to help idle away the eternal hours? What did immortal creatures read?
I walked along the shelves and found it hard not to touch the leather-bound tomes, though Vance seemed not to care.
I couldn’t remember my father’s voice or face anymore, but I knew we used to read together from the Bible, as well as copies of the Declaration of Independence, which my father had considered the most beautiful writing ever created by human beings. Ever since the first seizures, letters swam in my vision. I could remember some of the words I had learned at my father’s knee but would never be able to recognize them on a page now.
“How much trouble are we in?” I asked Vance, trying to pull myself away from the allure of the smooth pages. “I know we’re supposed to be freeblood, and you’re supposed to be welcome here, but … Misha is freeblood, and even I could tell the trainer was going for blood when he spoke to you.”
“We are in …” Vance trailed off. “I have no idea how much trouble we are in. I wish I could tell you that anything they say is a lie, but that’s not true. In fact, I’m not sure how often they actually lie outright. It’s one of the most frightening things about them.”
The door behind us opened and a tall, broad-shouldered vampire entered. Jaguar. I had never met this trainer before, but I recognized him from stories I had heard. His black hair was bound back, but it was still visibly longer than mine, and his features spoke of his heritage among both Europeans and the Azteka.
He ignored me at first, but greeted Vance with a smile and an outstretched hand. “Vance, welcome home.”
Vance flinched as he shook Jaguar’s hand. “It’s not home anymore,” he replied.
Jaguar appeared skeptical but did not press the issue. The obvious dismissal was perhaps more of a challenge than any words could be.
“You’ve come to us to make a deal, I hear?”
“I thought you were busy,” I said, hoping to interrupt Jaguar’s focus on Vance. “A new … project.” I had a feeling I knew what that meant for him, which was why I almost couldn’t get the word out.
Jaguar confirmed my suspicions immediately, saying, “Hardly a project worth mentioning, it turns out. I’ll have an empty cell again in days.” He spoke as if he were talking about an animal, not a man or woman.
“We’re waiting for Gabriel and … Jeshickah,” Vance asserted, cutting in. I could tell it took a conscious effort to say the Mistress of Midnight’s name without a title. The slip made Jaguar laugh.
“Work on that one,” Jaguar suggested, still smiling. “But not today, while you stand in her library. She’s more apt to deal when a man shows respect. Kadee, would you like a tour while Vance deals with the gritty details of trading flesh? I have no patience for such negotiations myself.”
“No,” Vance replied, while I was still wondering how Jaguar knew my name. “She’ll stay with me.”
“You’d rather keep her in a room with Jeshickah, Gabriel, Taro, and Nathaniel as you discuss someone’s price than let me show her around the building?”
Taro was another trainer, and the closest thing to a father that Vance had ever had. Nathaniel was one of Midnight’s mercenaries. It made sense that they would all be present, but I couldn’t help but feel that this was a lot of show for little old us.
“I’d like to stay, thanks,” I replied. It was a lie, and surely everyone in the room knew it. I didn’t want to be alone with any of these creatures, but I refused to leave Vance alone with them either.
“It’s decided, then,” Vance said.
“Your choice,” Jaguar confirmed as he sat, propping his feet up on a second chair.
It wasn’t long before the others joined us.
Taro was a tall, slender man with nutmeg-colored skin and blond hair, which he wore long and pulled back. When he walked in, he greeted Vance with a smile and ruffled his hair affectionately. Vance tensed at the gesture as if it were a slap.
I was sure Taro noticed; he was a trainer, after all. The question was whether he had predicted that Vance would react that way, and chose to do it anyway, or if he had forgotten that Vance wasn’t the same trusting, dependent child he had raised until recently.
When Taro turned away to confer with Jaguar in quiet tones, I caught Vance staring longingly at him for just a moment before he dropped his gaze and carefully composed himself.
Gabriel joined us next, cleaned of blood and impeccably dressed once more. “Ashley” trailed after him, carrying a tray that included sweet biscuits and tea, as if we were all here for an afternoon social.
While I had wondered about Taro’s motives, I had no doubt about Gabriel’s when he said to her, “Thank you, beautiful. Scribe the meeting for us, would you?”
She nodded, and replied too softly for me to hear. He had phrased it as a request, but it obviously wasn’t, and she returned with writing tools before the next vampire entered the room.
Nathaniel was the one who had bought Misha and Shkei from Julian Cobriana last year before they would have been executed. I wasn’t sure if I hated him or was grateful to him for that.
It was irrelevant. Even I knew you shouldn’t show either of those emotions to a mercenary.
Unsurprisingly, Jeshickah joined us last.
The last time I had seen her, she had been worn, pale, tired, and angry as she dealt with the plague that had already killed a score of humans and rendered all the other trainers unconscious. Now, fully recovered, she was stunning.
She seemed to be dressed for horseback, in clothes that blended female sensuality and fashion with men’s practicality—breeches and boots under a snug, emerald-green riding coat that momentarily threw me back ten years, because it was a human fashion, and would have been normal in a human town if it had been matched with a proper skirt and shirt.
I knew that vampires often appeared more human—more normal—than serpiente and other shapeshifters, but I couldn’t help expecting them to look bizarre and frightening. Instead, the sight of all these individuals together made the eye want to linger, even while every instinct said to run. I did not doubt that Jeshickah had picked her trainers for their talents, but I was also sure she applied the same critical gaze to their looks as well.
When Jeshickah entered, Ashley went to her knees. Jeshickah’s gaze fell on Vance, and I saw the tension thrum through him and I wondered how they had taught him these habits that he was physically fighting not to obey. Had they beaten him, in this place? If they had, how could he possibly long to return to it? I wanted to reach for him, or say something, anything comforting, but didn’t dare.
“The prodigal son returns,” Jeshickah said. Was that a slight smile on her face? It was hard to read her expression when I was afraid to meet her gaze. “And he brings a friend. Kadee Obsidian, I see you’re following the path of your masters as well. How is my Farrell these days?”
Was there any acceptable way to answer that question? I didn’t owe these creatures any explanation for my behavior. But I was sure she knew that, just as she knew that Farrell Obsidian may have started our guild, and been accepted as its leader, but that didn’t mean he owned or ruled those within it.
“I don’t know,” I replied, trying to keep my voice neutral. “We haven’t seen him since we left to speak to the Shantel. Do you want to deal, or play games?”
“They’ll do both if you let them,” Nathaniel said drily. “Trainers can’t help playing any more than a spider can resist running toward a tapped string.”
Jeshickah gestured, and a young man who had been standing as silent as a shadow in the back of the room appeared and poured the tea. The others ignored him, but I couldn’t resist watching as he first prepared Jeshickah’s tea with honey and cream, and then poured cups for Taro and Gabriel before looking to me and Vance questioningly. He was probably close to my age. His fair skin made me wonder if he had ever seen the sun.
“Tea, Kadee?” Taro prompted softly, as if I had been asked once before.
I was cold and the honey looked good. Was that kind of reasoning the path to damnation? I nodded, and the nameless slave stepped forward to make the wordless desire a reality.
Vance declined tea, and then Jeshickah commanded, “Tell us everything you saw among the Shantel.”
Over the next hour or so, I discovered that a few phrases have an intrinsically terrifying connotation when spoken in the right tone by a trainer. They were, in no particular order:
“Oh, really?”
“I see.”
And, of course, “I believe that you believe that.”
The last one was particularly unsettling. It came after my assertion that I had been partially raised by the Shantel, and I was confident that they were telling the truth when they said that the Shantel were trying to respond to Midnight’s demands, but their magic was interfering.
I believe that you believe that. In other words, Jeshickah didn’t think I was lying—for which I was grateful, since getting caught lying to these people would be a very bad idea—but still thought the Shantel might be.
Since I had wondered about that myself, it was a struggle not to squirm.
Vance and I described the argument among the royal house, and even that the serpiente royal party had also been turned back from Shantel land. Without needing to discuss it, we did not share the fact that the sakkri and the prince were having an affair, or the conversation we had with Aaron. Vance detailed his experience when he first tried to leave on his own, and then how he had tricked Shane and the forest in order to get it to release us.