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leksandar waved as the taxi left the driveway of the manor, carrying Adelaide, who was already asleep, and her parents back to their house. Marcia’s pale arm waving back, as she always had done, shot from the window of the car before it disappeared into the tunnel of trees that led to the gate. Aleksandar turned.
And almost ran into Detective Brody. “Where’s Alicia?” the detective demanded, scowling. “I was told she was with you.”
“She’s in the ballroom,” Aleksandar replied.
“Well, she’s not now.”
Aleksandar scowled. He turned and marched up the stairs, Brody not far behind. Stopping abruptly at the entrance to the ballroom, Aleksandar scanned the crowd. He could not see Alicia. Also notably absent was the bright crimson of Yulia. Aleksandar put the two absences together almost immediately. Moving quickly, he turned on his heel and ran for the second floor, Brody fast on his heels.
Stoyan noticed Aleksandar’s futile search and sudden departure from the ballroom. He motioned to Lucan to follow him, and the pair followed Aleksandar and Brody up the stairs.
Alicia’s mind returned to her abruptly as sharp pain exploded at her neck. The pain was followed immediately by severe weakness. She couldn’t see clearly, and her vision was only getting worse. There was a weight atop her that restricted her breathing. Panic set in. She tried to struggle, but her limbs felt like lead.
A crash, loud and sudden, echoed in her head and light poured into her dark world, bringing into sharp relief a painful headache. Squeezing her eyes closed in an effort to shut out the pain and confusion, Alicia sobbed.
The weight on her chest lifted suddenly and Alicia felt strong arms around her back, lifting her off... whatever she was lying on.
A few incoherent sounds, then, “Alicia? Alicia?”
She recognised that voice. It belonged to... to... whom? A name, hazy and unformed hovered in her mind.
“Alicia!”
Another voice, also masculine, also familiar.
“Jesus fuck!” The same voice.
“Stoyan,” the first voice barked. “The car.”
“Yes, Master Svetoslav.”
Svetoslav. Aleksandar. Alicia stirred. “Aleksandar?” she whispered. She tried to open her eyes, but her aching body would not respond. She felt the person holding her pull her closer.
“I’m here, Alicia. It’s all right. You’ll be all right.” Then, speaking to someone else, “Take her to the basement.” The words were softly spoken, but the tone was low; a growl. Aleksandar was angry.
“Don’t be mad,” Alicia said, sounding drunk even to herself. “I’m sorry. I think I drank too much.”
She felt lips press against her forehead. “It’s all right,” Aleksandar said. “I’m taking you home. You need to rest.”
“What a party,” Alicia slurred. She felt the world spin and suddenly she was floating, floating safe in strong arms. She smiled and let her head fall against Aleksandar’s shoulder. “I love you.”
Silence and warmth closed around her and, cocooned in the muscular arms of her lover, she fell unconscious.
Aleksandar was the god of thunder as he strode from the room, Alicia’s unconscious form in his arms. Anger rippled in his wake like ice blasted from a glacier. Brody wanted to scream at him, to unleash his own rage at the man whose kind did this to his partner, but dared not, cowed by the fierceness of Aleksandar’s countenance. So instead, he followed meekly behind, keeping one eye on him and one on his partner.
The Opyri prince said nothing as he descended the large marble stairs to the foyer. Some guests were wandering around the displays of the silent auction. They tutted to each other at the sight of the young drunk woman in Aleksandar’s arms as he strode past, his expression grim.
Only when he reached the opened door of his luxury sedan did he speak to Brody. “In,” he commanded sharply.
Brody moved before he had time to question it, and he silently chastised himself for it. Aleksandar entered after Brody, still holding Alicia in his arms. Stoyan closed the door behind him and entered the front.
The car pulled smoothly away from the house.
Aleksandar checked Alicia’s mouth, his shoulders bunched tightly. Brody scowled as he watched them relax.
“Thank God,” Aleksandar breathed. He leant back in his seat.
“What.”
“She was not Embraced. Good.”
“Embraced? Turned. You mean she wasn’t turned. How do you know?”
Aleksandar glanced briefly at Brody. “In order to be ‘turned’ as you say, one must drink the blood of an Opyri.”
“And she didn’t.”
“No.”
“So she won’t turn into one of... you.”
“No.”
“So,” Brody said, finally feeling courageous enough, “this was just your run-of-the-mill attack, then.”
Aleksandar spared him a quick glance, but said nothing. The rest of the trip passed in silence. Brody snuck glances at Aleksandar, who would alternate between staring intently ahead at nothing in particular and looking down at Alicia’s pale face, concern turning the corners of his mouth down.
They arrived at Alicia’s house in good time. Stoyan opened the door of the car and helped Aleksandar out. Brody followed. It was Stoyan who led the way up the short path to Alicia’s front door and unlocked it.
He stepped aside to allow Aleksandar and Brody through.
“She’s invited you in, then,” Brody said, disappointment edging his voice.
“We have been seeing each other for some time,” Aleksandar answered.
Brody gritted his teeth and followed Aleksandar up the stairs. “Water,” Aleksandar said to him. “There is a pitcher beneath the sink. Please fill it and bring a glass.”
Still gritting his teeth, Brody turned around and went back down the stairs to the kitchen. When he returned, he found Aleksandar laying Alicia on her bed. He had managed to undress her and get her into a long T-shirt. Brody watched a moment from the door of the bedroom, noting how gentle Aleksandar seemed. When Aleksandar had finished tucking her in, he straightened and turned to Brody.
“Thank you, Detective,” he said. “She will need that when she wakes.”
Brody grunted. He walked forward and placed the pitcher and glass on Alicia’s bedside table.
“So,” he asked Aleksandar. “What now?”
“Tea, I think,” Aleksandar replied, picking up Alicia’s ball gown from the floor. He walked over to the closet and opened the door. Extracting a coat hanger, he asked, “Would you like some?”
Brody looked down at Alicia, then back at Aleksandar, who hung the gown on the back of her bedroom door.
“Sure,” Brody said. “Why the fuck not?”
Aleksandar’s lips twitched slightly. He left the bedroom and started downstairs. Brody found himself sorely wishing he had brought his firearm with him. There was nothing he would like better than to empty a clip in Aleksandar Svetoslav’s back right about now. Sighing, Brody followed Aleksandar to the kitchen.
“Alicia will be unwell for a while,” Aleksandar said. He did not look at Brody, but stared out of the kitchen window into the quiet residential street.
“No shit,” Brody replied. “That’s what happens when a monster drinks your blood.”
Aleksandar rolled his shoulders, probably in an effort to dislodge some remaining tension, but it looked threatening to Brody.
“It’s more than that,” Aleksandar said quietly.
“Oh?”
“Opyri saliva is mildly toxic to humans, when it enters the blood stream. She will experience something akin to a severe flu. It’s not ordinarily fatal, but...” Aleksandar shrugged. “I’m sure she’ll be all right.”
“Wait, just the bite can kill someone?”
“Not usually, no,” Aleksandar replied. He turned to face Brody. “I’m not worried about her chances of survival,” he said. “But it will be unpleasant for her for a couple of weeks.”
The kettle clicked off and Aleksandar moved to the cupboard to remove two mugs and some tea. “Alicia usually only has camomile. Will that do?” he asked.
Brody shrugged, and Aleksandar removed two tea bags from a container and placed them in the mugs before pouring hot water over them. He handed a mug to Brody.
“I can’t always be here,” he said quietly. “I will need your help to care for her until she recovers.”
“I’m here whether you wanted it or not,” Brody snapped.
Aleksandar nodded. If Brody’s anger irritated him, he did not show it.
“And the woman ... thing that attacked her? What of her?”
“There are no laws against feeding,” Aleksandar said.
“She almost killed your girlfriend,” Brody growled.
“Yes,” Aleksandar replied, his voice quiet and controlled. “But like you, I cannot hold someone on crimes they almost committed.”
“So what you’re telling me is nothing. Nothing is going to happen to that bitch.”
“I didn’t say that,” Aleksandar replied. This time, the softness in his voice was joined by steel. “Yulia knew what she was doing. There will be punishment.”
“You just said...”
“I said that Yulia technically did not break our laws, Detective. But there is more to being an Opyri prince than enforcing the Covenant.” He growled his next words. “Yulia will not cross me again.”
Brody shuddered.
“I’m sorry,” Aleksandar said. “It should not have happened.”
Sighing, Brody put his mug on the counter. “Why did it happen?” he asked.
Aleksandar shrugged. “Yulia has always delighted in testing her boundaries. She did it when Theodore was prince, and she has tested me countless times as well. I’m willing to tolerate most of her attempts. But this... She must have known this was over the line. I cannot fathom why she would do it.”
“Maybe you’re not as scary as you like to think you are.”
Aleksandar smiled, surprising Brody. “Perhaps,” he said. Then he sighed. “I don’t revel in this, you know. I hate it, actually.”
“Hate what?”
“Being prince. House Svetoslav is one of the better Opyri Houses, not that that says much, I suppose. And still...”
“Then why do you do it?”
Aleksandar looked at Brody briefly. He folded his arms and stared down at the floor. “The same reason I turned. Theodore.”
“Your... what did you call him? Your Sire?”
Aleksandar nodded. “He left me his House when he died and I swore that I would care for it. I swore an oath. And I keep my word.”
Brody said nothing for a long time. “What would you do?” he asked. “If you were not Prince of House Svetoslav.”
Aleksandar smiled ruefully and shrugged. “Follow Theodore into oblivion. Or, I would have, before...”
Aleksandar shook his head. Leaning his weight against the countertop, he crossed his ankles and looked down at the floor.
“Before Alicia,” Brody finished.
“I know you don’t trust me, and so I doubt you will believe me, but I love her, Detective Brody.”
“You’re right,” Brody said. “I don’t believe you.”
Again, Aleksandar smiled. It was the same small smile he always used, but tonight it looked less arrogant than sad.
The detective rubbed the back of his neck. “So you have to be back at your house this evening, I assume?”
Aleksandar nodded. “I should be there to see the guests off at the very least.”
“I have to be at work by seven tomorrow. I can stay here overnight.”
“Then I will be here at five thirty tomorrow morning. I can have Stoyan drive you home to get ready for work then. I have nothing on for the next two days. I can stay for that duration.”
“That will work. I’ll get the rest of my schedule tomorrow. Looks like we’re working together until she’s better.”
“Thank you, Detective.”
“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.”
Aleksandar offered the detective another smile before looking at his watch and straightening. “Until tomorrow then,” he said. “Goodnight, Detective Brody.”
It was very nearly dawn when the last of the guests left the manor. Aleksandar fielded questions about Alicia’s wellbeing from curious guests, claiming that she had been unwell for a few days and was simply overwhelmed by the ball. When the last of the cars had vanished from the estate, Brendon excused himself and dragged himself up to his room. Stoyan, Lucan and Aleksandar remained in silence for a moment, before Aleksandar turned, and headed down into the basement.
The basement, to the outside eye, was nothing more than a gaming den, complete with a billiards table, a card table and a luxurious lounge area. Beyond that lounge, behind the fireplace was a secret room. Aleksandar entered that room, twisting the head of a terracotta owl that sat on the fireplace mantle in order to reveal the door. Row upon row of plants greeted him. Exotic, tropical plants that would not survive the temperate climate outside of the basement sat in carefully maintained pots. The lights above, specially crafted to mimic sunlight, were currently turned off. Aleksandar did not need them to see, and they would have burnt him, in any case.
He walked to the far end of the room, uncovered a trapdoor and flung it open. He descended the metal stairs and, once at the bottom, flipped a switch.
Lights flickered on, revealing a large cave-like room in the centre of which stood a prison cell; solid iron walls with one door and one large window of bulletproof glass. In the centre of that cell, both arms in iron manacles that were attached to the floor by way of thick chains, sat Yulia. She blinked and looked up when the lights came on.
“My lord,” Yulia said sardonically, her mouth twisting in a cruel mockery of a smile.
“Save the pleasantries,” Aleksandar said. His voice was quiet and emotionless as he regarded her.
“How is your pet?” Yulia asked.
If her words irritated the prince, it did not show. Instead, Aleksandar leant his frame against the door and regarded Yulia in silence. A master of his own visage, Yulia could not tell what thoughts lay behind his midnight eyes.
“You don’t have a case against me,” Yulia said. “I broke no laws.”
“You attacked my lover,” Aleksandar replied.
“I hunted. That is legal.”
Aleksandar’s lips twitched, flickering through an unnerving smile before his face fell into impassivity again. “So too will be my retribution.”
Yulia snorted in derision and turned away.
“For now,” Aleksandar said, “you will remain here.”
“You have no grounds to hold me,” Yulia grated.
“My ire is all the grounds I need, Yulia. Who will challenge me for your sake, hmm?”
Yulia had no answer to that. When Aleksandar turned to leave, she murmured, “You will not remain prince for long if you insist on your obscene worship of that bitch and her ilk.”
Aleksandar did not spare her another glance. He shut the iron door and slid the heavy bolt across. He walked away, turning off the lights as he did so.
“Jealousy is a strange thing,” Lucan murmured to Aleksandar from the foot of the spiral staircase.
“It’s not jealousy,” Aleksandar replied. He climbed the stairs.
“Then what?” Lucan asked as he followed him.
“It is arrogance. And time. We are changed, Lucan. We forget who we were and where we came from, and so we forget what strength we once possessed. We begin to believe the lie.”
“And what lie is that?”
Aleksandar paused a moment. “That we are better.”
Lucan scowled as Aleksandar walked on. “Are we not?” he called after the prince.
“No,” Aleksandar whispered. “We are not.”