Moonlight Prince (Vampire Girl #4)

But the king did not move to touch me. He did not speak to share with me a story. Instead, he waved his hand in a gesture, and my mother pushed me to move out of the way. I did not wish to move. I wished to stay. To talk with father. But my mother pushed me more. "Please," she whispered. "Before the guards notice."

I let her move me then, move me back into the crowd. I had seen the guards. Big men in scary helmets that looked like beasts. I did not want those men to notice me. So I went back to the crowd, and then I went home. I did not see my father again. Not for a long time.

But I see him now.

He stands before me.

Laughing.

Laughing at the real Asher.

He's been impersonating him. Using illusion for… who knows how long.

I once thought Lucian dead. Gone. But he lives. He keeps my half-brother prisoner. I don't know what game he plays, but I know it is not good. Lucian was… is… never good.

"What's so funny?" asks Asher. The real Asher.

Lucian stops chuckling, adjusting his red cape. "Your audacity, my son. You always were so full of yourself, so proud."

"Ha, ha, ha," Asher says in mock laughter. "The Prince of Pride is prideful. Oh father, you truly are hilarious. Please tell me, what was your curse again? Bad jokes?"

Something changes then.

Lucian grows still. Cold. This is the man I know. The man I saw that day in court.

"I wish we could chat more, my son," says the king, his voice plain, bereft of emotion, "but we are being rude. You see, we have a guest."

A guest?

I freeze.

He means me.

Lucian turns, facing me. And he smiles. "Oh, Kayla, Kayla, right on time."

What does he mean?

"Come now," says Lucian. "Come out of the shadows."

I do as he says, not because he says it. But because this way I can raise my sword. Raise my sword and point it straight at his heart. "Let him go."

"Not yet. The time is not right. But soon. I promise."

"No!" I yell, stepping forward. I don't know my plan. I don't have one. I can't fight Lucian. But maybe, with Riku at my side, maybe I stand a chance…

"You won't need that thing," says the king, gesturing at my blade. "Don't you see, you are here for a reason. No one. No one has uncovered the truth. No one knows I have been impersonating a prince. No one but you. A filthy half-breed wench. Why is that?"

"Because you let me," I say, realizing the truth. "You lied about Tavian on purpose. You led me here."

"Hmm," says Lucian, nodding. "Perhaps you are smarter than I thought. Smarter than your whore mother, anyway."

"Don't talk about her," I hiss. "Don't you dare!"

He shrugs. That's all? A shrug?

"How did you know I was a Druid?" I ask, studying the room. Looking for other exits. Looking for a way to free Asher.

"It is a skill I have learned," says Lucian, "to sense power in others. Your Spirit is strong. Ever since we rescued you from the dungeon, I knew what you were. Your potential."

"Do you? Really?" I raise my free hand, and it lights with silver flame. "Then you know what I can do to you. Let Asher go. Now. Or I burn you until there is nothing but ash."

Asher's eyes go wide. "Kayla. Kayla you can't—"

Lucian slaps him across the face. "Quiet. Let the half-breed play her games. It will be all the better when she loses."

Asher drops his head. He seems barely conscious.

I'm tired of this talk. Of Lucian's insults. I've carried a lifetime of hate for this man. And now I unleash it.

I charge forward, and Riku launches into the air. His wings burn bright with flame. Like an arrow, he flies for Lucian.

But the king is too quick. He steps to the side, avoiding the flames, and he dashes forward. At me.

Our blades clash.

And in an instant, it is over.

My sword falls to the floor.

He disarmed me. I do not even know how. He moves so fast. It's impossible.

He—

Lucian kicks me in the gut, and I fall, clutching my stomach. I spit and blood flies from my mouth, staining the cold stones.

Riku screeches in fury and strikes, claws reaching for Lucian's face.

The king grabs the phoenix midair. Holds him by the neck.

"No," I try to yell, but it comes out a weak whimper.

Riku chirps in terror, thrashing, but Lucian does not let go. He seems unaffected by the burning feathers. Maybe his armor protects him. Maybe he truly feels no pain.

"Silver flame," he says, his eyes wide with awe. "There hasn't been a silver flame for ages. Not according to the ancient Fae texts. You truly are special." He looks at Riku with pleasure. With greed.

"Let him go!" With the last of my strength, I jump up, grab my sword and strike at his arm.

Lucian blocks with one hand. It's all he needs. He smacks the blunt of his blade against my fingers, crushing them, and I drop my blade again. Any energy I had leaves me, and I fall to my knees, crying, pleading. "Please let him go. Let him go."

I cannot stand the pain Riku is in. The terror. It is my pain. My terror.

Lucian pulls something from his red cloak. A grey stone. He holds it up and whispers something under his breath. Words I do not understand. Words like Tavian mumbled in his sleep.

Riku screeches again. Louder. A sound of true horror.

Something. Something is happening.

Riku becomes more flame than bird. His screams fade. They die out.

And then nothing is left. Nothing but silver smoke.

It flows into the grey stone, changes it. Turns it a deep purple with streaks of silver.

"What have you done to him?" I scream, my body shaking with terror and rage.

"Shhh," says Lucian, caressing the stone. "Do not worry, my dear. Riku is safe. Safe and well."

He's in the stone. The bastard put Riku in the stone. "What do you want with him?"

"I need his help. And then he will be free. I swear." He smiles at me.

I spit at his face.

The phlegm doesn't reach him. But I don't care.

Lucian just shakes his head. A strange disappointment in his eyes.

"What now?" I ask. "Chain me up just like you did your son?"

He raises an eyebrow, then sits down to my level. "Oh no, there's no reason for that. No, I have a far simpler solution." He pulls something from his cloak. A vial. A potion.

No. Not again. I'm not taking something again.

"Don't be afraid, my dear. This will simply make you sleep. A deep, beautiful sleep. Your friends will think the fever broke you, that Levi's tortures and poisons put you into a coma in the end. They will try to help you, but nothing will work."

I lean back. "No. Please."

He doesn't look into my eyes. He doesn't seem to hear. "But you will wake. One day. When the time is right. When I have need of you."

"No. Please—"

He grabs my jaw. I try to keep it closed, but he pries it open. Stuffs the vial down my throat. The liquid pours down, coating my tongue with bitterness. I try not to swallow, but it's gagging me. Gagging me until my muscles react against my will. My mind begins to fade. My vision blurs. His is the last face I see. The face of my father.

"Good," he whispers. "Good."





Chapter 1


BLEED FOR ME


"Sometimes wolves come in sheep's clothing."

—Fenris Vane