“You want me to kill him?” I kept my gaze on hers, unwilling to look at the human in question.
“No.” The smug smile remained on her deceivingly innocent face. “I want you to drink from him and to control yourself. I want you to pull away before killing him. To enjoy your meal and leave him alive.”
“I don’t think I can do that.” I stared her down, since she must know I was right. She was asking me to do this because she wanted me to kill him.
I shouldn’t have expected anything less from her.
The vampire queen looked young and innocent, but her soul was dark and twisted.
“You can do it,” she said simply. “As a great scientist once said—if you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything.”
“That’s not a real scientist.” I glared at her. “It’s a quote from a movie.”
“That’s irrelevant.” She waved my point away. “The point is that it’s the truth. You’re a vampire now, Jacen. The strongest of all species.”
Camelia gave a small huff, but Laila ignored her.
“When I turned you last year, I gave you a gift,” Laila continued.
“A gift I never wanted.”
“Nevertheless, I gave it to you,” she said. “You’re a vampire prince now, Jacen. Show me that you deserve the title.”
“And if I don’t?” I challenged.
“You do.” She laughed, light and melodic. “You may not see it now, but you will. Someday, you will. But for now—feed from him.”
I eyed up the human man. How did he get in the prison? How old was he? Did he have a family?
I couldn’t ask in front of Laila and Camelia. They viewed the human blood slaves as animals instead of people. Angering them would get me nowhere.
Instead, I created answers to the questions to myself. I imagined that this man had a family—a newborn grandchild he was excited to get to know. That he wanted his family to have more food than their rations allowed, since the rations only afforded bare survival for the humans. So he stole—bread from the vampires. The bread that vampires didn’t even need to eat to survive, but enjoyed anyway, simply because they could. He got caught, and was unfairly locked in the dungeons, doomed to become a personal blood slave for the vampires in the palace—doomed to have them drink and drink from him until he died of blood loss and his remains were fed to the wolves outside the enchanted boundaries.
I looked into his eyes, trying to convince myself that this story I’d created for him was true.
Humanizing him might be the difference between if I was able to stop myself from losing myself to the bloodlust or if I killed him.
“Are you ready?” Laila sighed and tapped her foot impatiently. “We don’t have all day.”
“I’m ready.” I stared at the man—examining his wrinkled face and reminding myself of the story I’d created.
I wouldn’t kill him.
I would let him live.
I inched toward him and lowered myself down, my fangs sliding out of my gums as the scent of his blood filled my nose. Then my teeth sunk into his flesh and I was gulping down the warm, fresh blood.
How had I thought that the bitter, refrigerated blood could compare? How had I convinced myself that I could live off that garbage for the rest of my immortal existence? Noble vampires in the Vale were afforded the luxury of drinking straight from humans—I should enjoy the indulgence, not cower away from it.
It wasn’t like I had much else to look forward to anymore. Not after my mortal life—my soul—had been taken from me against my will.
If the intoxicating taste of fresh blood was all I could enjoy, then so be it.
Just when I was beginning to enjoy myself, the blood supply stopped. I sucked deeper on his neck, trying to will out the final drops, and I squeezed his arms harder, as if that could push out more blood.
But there was nothing left.
He was drained dry.
Camelia
I loved watching Jacen feed.
Ever since he’d been brought to the palace, I’d been fascinated by the vampire prince—the handsome swimmer I’d advised that Laila turn after her previous prince had been driven mad by the bloodlust and had sacrificed himself to the wolves.
As Jacen drained the old man, I reached for the pendant I always wore around my neck—the one filled with wormwood—stroking it and holding my breath. I watched as the man stopped struggling, as his hands went limp, and as his head eventually rolled to the side, his eyes empty and dead.
As predicted, Jacen had lost control again. Consumed by his bloodlust. It wasn’t surprising. Because the stronger the vampire, the harder it was for them to control their urge to drain humans dry.
Jacen was shaping up to become one of the most powerful vampires that ever existed.
And I was determined to make him mine.
“Take the body away,” Laila told Daniel, barely glancing at the drained corpse.
Jacen didn’t tear his eyes away from the old man as Daniel heaved him over his shoulder and walked out of the room.
“You’re not ready,” Laila told Jacen sharply. “In time you will be, but not yet.”
“How do I control it?” he asked her—begged her. “Why don’t I know when to stop?”
“You’re improving,” Laila said. “The fact that you didn’t maul him the moment you smelled his blood was significant progress. But you need more time.”
“How much more?”
“There’s no exact formula,” she said. “It will happen when you want it badly enough. In the meantime, I have work to attend to.”
She exited the room, leaving Jacen and me alone.
“What are you staring at?” he growled at me. “Don’t you have work to do, too? A kingdom to help Laila run?”
“Of course.” I nodded. “But I also wanted to let you know that I’m here for you, if you ever want to talk.”
“Don’t play that game with me.” He scowled.
“What game?” I reached for the amulet again, forming my expression into one that I hoped looked like complete innocence.
“The game where you pretend to care about anyone except for yourself.”
“There’s no pretense here,” I told him. “I do care about you. I want you to become the strongest vampire prince that ever lived. Perhaps even a king.”
“I’ll never become a king.” He crossed his arms. “I don’t want to become a king.”
“Then what do you want?” I asked, truly curious.
“To be human again.”
“Why?” I laughed. “Even if that were possible—which it isn’t—why would you refuse the power you’ve been given? Why would you want to be so weak?”
“I’m not going to bother explaining it to you,” he looked away from me and walked over to the window, gazing longingly at the human village below. “You’ll never understand.”
“I might understand more than you think.” I slithered toward him, and when I was close enough, I laid my hand gently on his shoulder. “I understand that you need comfort, Jacen. I can provide that. Let me give it to you.”
I leaned forward, looking deep into his eyes, my lips getting closer and closer to his. What would kissing him feel like? I imagined that old man’s blood must still coat his tongue—I wished I could know how delicious it tasted to him.
It must have been incredible, to make him lose control like he did.
“Stop.” He stepped back, his eyes dilating as he stared into mine. “Leave my quarters. Now.”
“Are you trying to compel me?” I laughed again, although disappointment fluttered in my stomach. I wouldn’t be turned away that easily. Instead, I leaned forward again, willing him to give into temptation. He’d given in with that human. Why not with me?
He simply backed away and repeated his command.
“You know I’m wearing wormwood,” I continued, reaching for my necklace. “Even if you’ve mastered compulsion, it won’t work on me.”
He just stared at me, saying nothing.