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THE LAST THING I NEEDED was to hurt Maer’s feelings.
She didn’t seem like the type to get overly emotional—besides her fiery temper—but I didn’t know her well enough to know if her hurt turned into that anger, and if she lashed out because of it.
Walking out on her was not a good way to get in her good graces. If she had liked me in any capacity, she probably didn’t like me now. And if she didn’t like me already, maybe she hated me.
Either way, it was probably for the best.
As I headed home, the prospect of Sloan waiting with late dinner calming the adrenaline rushing through my veins like ice water, I prayed to nonexistent gods that Maer didn’t follow and beat me up. I kept glancing back to see if she was charging at me like an enraged ram. She was walking in my direction, but it was only because the route to Moros and Bloodfrost territories were the same.
She didn’t seem inclined to interact. Part of me was relieved; the other half moped. This was the perfect opportunity to chat and form the foundation of a friendship. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to not blab about this new secret I had been forcefully entrusted with. I wasn’t good at keeping my mouth shut about anything.
I stopped at the bridges across the River Garnoc. One veered slightly left while the other crossed slightly right, to Bloodfrost and Moros, respectively. The burbling of the water was peaceful over the crickets and distant voices of vampires and humans alike dispersing as dawn drew nearer. The night was still a rich blue, blooming patches of moonflowers every few feet shimmering in the dark.
Maer strode past me and across the Moros bridge. It was painted entirely black, and its posts were topped with silver-dipped skulls. Unexpectedly, my heart sank. Uninclined indeed.
I made it halfway across Bloodfrost’s bridge—painted red, obviously, its posts topped with painted-red wooden spikes—before Maer hurried backward to the center of hers.
“I don’t know what your problem is,” she began heatedly, “but stop being a creep around me.”
I was so taken aback that I almost laughed. But Maer looked mad, and I didn’t want to provoke her. “A creep?” I repeated.
Her pale blue eyes blazed, and her shoulder-length brown hair was frizzy from the humidity. Maer had a nice nose, I realized absently. And her lips—they were nice, too, but it was hard to admire them when they were twisted in a scowl.
“Yes,” she snapped, her voice naturally husky. “You act weird, and you keep staring at me.” Maer lowered her voice, glancing around as if to make sure we weren’t being overheard. From Cirillo, I wonder? “It’s going to get me in trouble.”
Before I could stop myself, I said, “It’s gotten me into trouble, too.”
Maer blinked, her anger momentarily forgotten. “You?” Then she shook her head and her scathing look returned. “Then it’s a lesson to stop.”
Her accusatory tone—she certainly had a right and reason—got an unexpected rise out of me, even though I knew I was the one being unreasonable. “Well, I apologize, but there is no need to be unkind about it.”
Maer’s eyes seemed to narrow to slits. “Anyone who knows me knows that I’m anything but kind.”
“So I’ve noticed,” I mused, again before I could stop myself.
She called me a very foul name.
“That proves it for sure,” I said, leaning my forearms on the railing. There were no rules against members of different covens chatting on neutral territory. Plenty of conversations had been had from across bridges. “You fought well last week—even if your game was a little off. You said you weren’t feeling well. Are you all right? You look okay, at first glance.”
“Why do you keep staring at me?” she demanded, ignoring my comment.
I was no longer indignant. “Because I admire you, Maer,” I told her earnestly, my grin turning into a gentle smile.
Maer eyed me like I would jump out at her at any given moment. She didn’t trust me whatsoever, I realized. Then again, she probably trusted no one but herself.
“Why?” she asked cautiously.
I counted the reasons on my fingers. “You’re a capable fighter. You never back down. You frighten Gladiators twice your size. You have a temper that can rival even the surliest goat—”
“Are you calling me livestock?”
“—you are intelligent,” I continued over her protest, “and clever and—and very—”
This time I had the sense to stop myself. I clamped my lips shut and looked down at the silvery water.
“What?” Maer demanded breathlessly, leaning over the rail. “‘Very’ what? Tell me, Blackwood!”
“Impetuous,” I blurted. Her expression, which had been wide-eyed with curiosity, soured, and she stepped away, crossing her arms. I wanted to smack myself upside the head. Good going, wheat-for-brains. “Wait, Maer—”
She flicked her hair as she turned on her heel. “I have no time for secret-keepers.”
“Would you like to join her coven?”
Ciel’s words returned to the forefront of my mind with a vengeance.
“No,” I had told her from where we stood underneath the arena. No one was around to overhear—no one to help, should Ciel decide to snap a few limbs or bleed me dry.
The Moros Heir cocked her head. “Why not?”
“It’s not mine. I’m part of Bloodfrost.”
“You know it’s more than possible to switch. It can be done.” Ciel had leaned in close. She smelled, like all vampires, of blood both stale and fresh and cold, like frost on grass in winter mornings. “You like her, don’t you? You don’t even attempt to hide your doe eyes. It’s pathetic, really. I’m offering you the opportunity of a lifetime—”
“No, thank you,” I’d cut her off, much to her dislike as she reeled back. “I appreciate the offer, Heir, but I’m happy where I am.”
Ciel scoffed harshly. “You liar. Humans are never happy anywhere.”
“Perhaps some,” I’d said with a shrug. Somehow my voice was steady and nonchalant. But Ciel knew better than I did that my heart was racing out of control. “But I’m happy. Have a nice night—”
Ciel’s clawed hand on my shoulder stopped me from walking. I dared glance up—she was half a foot taller than me—to see her grinning widely again. I suppressed a shudder. “Of course. You’re right. Not everyone is miserable. We all have our desires that get us through the day.”
She gave my shoulder a hard shove forward. “Maer is your desire, Koen Blackwood,” she continued in a whisper. “If you want her to remain unharmed, you should heed my words.”
I stiffened. Why was Ciel threatening Maer? She was the Heir to the Moros coven—Maer was just a measly human. She didn’t pose any danger to anything.
Ciel giggled and turned toward the exit, her cloak whisking behind her. “You humans are easier to frighten than squirrels. I’ll see you around, Bloodfrost. Keep my offer in mind.”
Her offer: my ability to join the Moros coven to be with Maer. But she never said in exchange for what.
The answer would always be no. Bloodfrost was far from being a utopia, but I had a job, a home, and Sloan. I would never need anything else.
I told Ciel so as she crossed the threshold. She faltered for half a heartbeat and then continued on.
Maer had come in next.
And now she was storming off. I watched her vanish around a street corner and sighed.
“There’s no point in asking why she’s limping, is there?” I sighed to myself.
“I don’t suppose there is.”
I froze at the male voice. It reminded me of violin strings and a bow—deep, long, and haunting, and impossible not to find enchanting.
I gripped the railing with one hand as I turned back toward neutral territory. No member of any other coven was allowed to set foot on another’s bridge, not even the leaders or their offspring. As long as I stayed right here, Aeros Adelio couldn’t touch me.
The Rhidian coven leader wasn’t the most frightening of the four—that title was reserved for the Serpent Queen, Tanith Taran of the Elarian coven—but he was certainly the most conniving. He was known for his charming smile and trickster words. I had met him several times but had never spoken to him.
What did he want with me?
I glanced up at the sky. It was beginning to lighten.
What did Aeros want so badly that he was risking his own skin rather than wait until the next night?
“I’m over here, Blackwood,” Aeros purred.
I met the vampire’s black-sclera eyes; his irises were as golden as the sun, and the varying shades seemed to flicker like flames. His chest-length hair and even his skin was gold, too, and so was his outfit fit for a ruler. With his presence and regalia alone, he might as well have been some egocentric god. He was nicknamed that—the Gold God. It was why he had so many female Bleeders.
So what did he want from me?
When I didn’t greet him, Aeros’s brow furrowed, and he cocked his head to the side. He was alone; usually, all leaders had at least one or two bodyguards with them. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”
After ruining my chance with Maer, I was in no mood to play more mind games with vampires. Especially when this one’s special power was to manipulate metal. The Rhidian bridge was the only one made out of it instead of wood, its posts topped with miniature idols of himself.
“I have someone waiting at home,” I told Aeros with a dip of my head. “I must be going—”
A whip of wind battered my face. When I blinked, Aeros was standing on the edge line of the bridge, literally toeing the line of forbidden territory. His eyes were alive with wrath, and his fangs were bared.
“How dare you disrespect a coven leader,” he hissed, his arms hovering at his sides like he wanted to reach over and grab me.
But I didn’t flinch. It wasn’t just that a non-member wasn’t allowed to cross—they couldn’t. Ancient, forgotten magic made it so.
As was evidenced by the circle carved into the first right post of each bridge that glowed faint orange any time a non-member attempted to pass.
It was shimmering now. Aeros hissed wordlessly at it.
“Whatever you want from me,” I said to the vampire, keeping my voice clear of any tone that would antagonize him, “can surely wait for the games tomorrow night. I’m sure we’re both tired.”
Like a candle blown out, Aeros’s demeanor went cool as his irritation evaporated. He straightened, hooking his arms behind him, his fanged smile patient as he observed me—sizing me up. “Indeed. I have better things to do than chat up a haughty Gladiator who thinks a little circle can protect him.”
I had never thought to put much stock into the protection ward until the moment I needed it. But I wasn’t stupid enough to think it made me invincible. I couldn’t make an enemy of Aeros, for as soon as I crossed into neutral territory, no glowing circle could help me if he decided to take a bite.
“Then what do you want?” I asked cautiously. I just want to go home to Sloan, I answered my own question, feeling uncharacteristically miserable. Just as Ciel said.
Aeros shrugged one slim shoulder. “Many things. Goodnight.” His tone was pleasantly dismissive. But he made no move to leave.
Not wanting to waste another second, I finished crossing the bridge. I waved a hand. “’Night.”
Though my legs kept me steady, adrenaline coursed through my body. I felt Aeros’s gaze hot on my back—like it was an arrow, and I was the target.
No, not just a target.
A plaything.
I had a very bad feeling that I was suddenly a mouse caught between two scheming cats.
