“Well, you’re way better off than I am, because I know squat,” she said.
“Here is what I know: Both yours and Nikolai Itzov’s fathers died in an incident rumored to be combat resulting in the death of both, yet no one witnessed it. Your father’s death destabilized the vampire nation, leaving it in chaos, causing a large number of them to go rogue and feed on humans. That sparked the execution of thousands of vampires at the hands of the Slayers, which resulted in a rebellion that divided the vampires into two factions.”
The whole thing sounded like a plot for a scary book. Elena folded her legs up and shifted in her chair to face him. This craziness is real, she reminded herself. I’m not going to wake up from this. But she wished she could—she wished she could forget the whole thing…well, maybe with the exception of a few hot encounters with a Slayer. Those she never wanted to forget. Heat shot through her at the mere thought. Dammit. Stop.
Stefan stared over the water as he spoke. “Fydor, the newly instated Slayer king, replaced Nikolai’s father and immediately married his mother.”
“How did that go over?”
“Fydor marrying Tatiana Itzov was a good move politically. She was loved by their people and gave him validity. According to my sources, the marriage was not well-received by Nikolai, who moved out of his family’s compound the day the engagement was announced.”
Poor Nik. They had talked for hours in the cabin, and he’d never mentioned any of this. He’d kept it light and funny, probably to make her comfortable. Just like he’d done with his body. He’d eased her fear and discomfort. Maybe she’d misjudged him more than she thought. And as much as she tried not to, she worried about him.
“Fydor vowed to cease all executions if the vampires swore allegiance to him as their king, as long as the feeding on humans was discreet and had a low mortality rate,” Stefan continued.
Low mortality rate? Humans shouldn’t die at all if there were other options. Elena could hardly believe it.
“The ones who did not swear allegiance to Fydor appointed a new vampire king and are considered rebels. They stay true to your father’s dictates, feeding only on willing immortals.”
“Like Margarita.”
“Yes. In fact, her brother is the Arconian leader.”
“Arconian…”
“As it sounds, they took your father’s name.”
Well, no wonder Margarita was all up in her business that day. She smiled as another piece of the puzzle slipped into place.
He leaned down and brushed some sand off his recliner. “Nikolai, unaware of the agreement between his uncle and the vampires that allowed them to predate humans, continued to kill the violators of the laws of the Underveil while searching for you.”
“For me?”
“For the Uniter, who appears to be you.” He gave a half laugh. “I would love to have seen his face when he figured that out.”
No kidding. Finding out the person he sought was enemy number one, and a woman at that, must have been a shock to his big, bad, misogynistic Slayer system. “It wasn’t pretty, I’m sure.” She took another sip of her drink. “So, not knowing Uncle Dearest had given the vamps the green light to drain humans, Nik slayed them.”
“Well put.” How could a guy that good-looking do nothing at all for her? His blue eyes were a shade paler than the water, giving him an unearthly appearance, which suited, she supposed. According to Nik, he was an alien of some kind. “Yes,” he continued. “His execution of those who took human lives made him an enemy of most vampires and in violation of the treaty, which is why his uncle could put a kill order on him.”
“But Nik didn’t know about the agreement.”
Stefan smiled. “Yes, he’s been kept in the dark about a lot of things.”
She fiddled with the tie on the white cotton shorts his housekeeper, Bridgette, had laid out for her this morning. She swore she wasn’t going to ask. That she didn’t care. Still, she couldn’t help herself. “Is he still at your place?”
He pulled his cell from his pocket. “According to security, he teleports in and out.”
A teeny kernel of panic bloomed in her belly. Surely, he’d stay out of danger. “So what is my role in all of this?”
“Walk with me.” Even his movements seemed inhuman as he effortlessly rose from his lounge chair.
She wrestled her way out of the wood and canvas contraption much less gracefully and collected her drink. The sand was soft and warm underfoot—the opposite of the snow she’d trudged through with Nikolai. Where was he now, she wondered? Was he looking for her?
Stefan glanced over and then stopped. “I don’t know what manner of creature you are. I know Fydor desires this war and he wants you dead, so it stands to reason, you are—or he believes you are—the Uniter from the prophecy. The one to build the bridge and end the war.”