“What do you mean?”
“Nothing for you to worry about.” Lawrence patted her hand. The gesture was not as comforting as he probably hoped. “The only people with whom you need to concern yourself are me, Zenas, and his mate, Sabine. Ignore the others, even though they’ll be interested in you.”
A few minutes later, a large limestone manor came into view. The full moon’s light reflected off the white snow dusting everything, making the entire building glitter. The only sound Amaia heard in the still air was the snorting of the horses as they trod toward the front door. The carriage drew closer, and her heightened hearing detected the hum of voices. As the hum grew louder, so did Amaia’s nerves. Lawrence was right. There were plenty of people present. Not people: vampires.
Amaia and Lawrence stood together in front of the imposing double door as the carriage departed. Amaia met Lawrence’s eyes, hoping her apprehension didn’t show on her face but knowing that he would sense it just the same. He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. “You’ll do fine.”
Without another word, he strode to the door and opened it, as if it was perfectly normal to barge in without waiting for a manservant. The sound of the heavy wood creaking open silenced the hum of conversation. Amaia passed Lawrence into the unlit entryway. Her eyes adjusted to the absence of light as if she had always been able to see in the dark. From her vantage point, the house appeared deserted. The echo of Lawrence closing the door behind her only added to the feeling of emptiness.
Lawrence removed her cloak and stored it somewhere nearby; Amaia didn’t bother looking. “Come, they’ll all be in the hall.” He didn’t spare her another glance as he swept past her, clearly familiar with the home. Amaia tamed her curiosity and followed silently behind, keeping her eyes focused on Lawrence.
Dozens of faces greeted them in the hall, silent and still as wax figures. Amaia tried not to be distracted by the eyes focused on her, but these were the first vampires she had met outside of Lawrence, and it was almost impossible not to return their stares.
“Focus.” Lawrence’s voice centered her, and she followed him. At the front of the room sat a couple who had to be Zenas and Sabine. They both had hair blacker than anything she had ever seen. Zenas had an exotic air to match his olive-toned skin. Sabine, on the other hand, was as pale as snow, with clear blue eyes that sent a chill through Amaia. They were a contrast to Zenas’s hard brown orbs.
When Lawrence stopped, Amaia followed him to her knees. Only after they both humbly bowed did Zenas move. He stood and came to Lawrence, circling him, ignoring Amaia completely. “Lower.” The word came out deeper than she would have expected from such a young-looking man. Zenas appeared to be barely older than Amaia’s twenty-two years.
As soon as the word left Zenas’s lips, Lawrence lowered his head to the ground. “Do it.” Lawrence’s voice commanded her. She didn’t think Zenas even cared about her, but her eyes flitted up to see that Sabine’s icy stare stayed fixed on her while her mate was busy with Lawrence.
“Lower.” The command came again, and Lawrence sank deeper until he was laid out completely prostrate on the ground. Amaia grimaced as she followed suit. It felt unnatural to see Lawrence in such a position. He had always been so strong and powerful in her world. Seeing his face pushed against the flagstone, his lace cuffs and silk doublet resting on the dusty floor, evoked Amaia’s disdain. How could Lawrence be so weak as to humble himself this way?
“I should have you killed, Lawrence. I should do it myself.”
“Yes, Sire.”
Amaia nearly choked. Why was Lawrence acting so contrite?
“Did you name her?”
“Yes, Sire. Her name is Amaia. If it pleases you.”
Zenas moved so quickly that Amaia didn’t even see, just felt the whoosh of air. Zenas had Lawrence off the floor and pinned to the wall by his throat. “None of this pleases me, Lawrence. You know the rule.” Amaia watched the proceedings through her eyelashes. She didn’t miss that Sabine had taken a keen interest in her mate’s show of power.
“Yes, Sire.”
“What is it?”
“Your children are not allowed to create vampires, Sire.”
“No, they are not. It keeps our happy little clan at peace, doesn’t it? Why do you want to disrupt the peace, Lawrence? Hadn’t I told you I would turn her when the time was right? Do you suspect that you know better than I when that time should be?”
They made an incongruous picture, this old gray man scraping to a boy who looked less than half his age.
“No, Sire. I swear I did it for you. Please, give me a chance to explain.”