“Yes,” Roksana said slowly. “But I don’t understand what you mean by this being your last service to the slayers.”
Tilda didn’t answer right away. “The fae have long been an ally of the slayers. Though we were reluctant at first, it became necessary to form a united front against the vampires. You see, we are much fewer in number. Our influence in the underworld is not what it used to be. We do have value, however.” A glow beat beneath her skin, pulsing, pulsing. “Our abilities made us a threat to the vampires. Thus, we went into league with the slayers.”
“For protection,” Roksana guessed, receiving a nod from Tilda. “What has changed?”
“Why, there is a new vampire king. Haven’t you heard?” Tilda lit a new cigarette. “Not a fan. His peaceful practices have stirred the hornets’ nest and now there is an uprising in the States. There are now two vampire contingents and I no longer have faith in the slayers’ ability to make our alliance worthwhile.”
In the decade since Tucker was Silenced, he’d learned to navigate an underworld that—for all its oddities and chaos—had a lot of consistencies as well. A vampire High Order ruled over the vampires and a guild of slayers was located on each continent. An endless battled waged between them, centuries old. Of late, there had been an internal battle among the vampires, too. Between good and bad. Those who wanted to live a normal life and those who wanted to control their subjects through fear and violence.
Tucker’s best friend, Jonas, had recently claimed the vampire throne in a hostile takeover, determined to replace the High Order’s ruthless practices with benevolence and patience. For a long time, the High Order governed the vampire population with intimidation and fear. Jonas wanted to change that. Wanted to give his subjects the tools they needed to survive in the darkness, where they had no choice but to dwell.
Elias and Roksana traded a glance. “You’re forming an alliance with the vampires that rise against the king?”
“That’s right. You’ll let him know, won’t you? Since you work for him.” Tilda smiled, enjoying the fact that she’d caught them off guard. She’d known all along they worked for Jonas, the new king and their best friend. “Through Mary’s marriage,” Tilda continued, smugly, “we will unite the fae and the dark uprising.”
Until that moment, Tucker had been hearing the conversation through a static filter. What they were discussing was important as hell, yes, but the girl next to him siphoned his focus. Narrowed everything down to the trusting clutch of her fingers and her scent of fresh cut roses.
And blood.
Sweet, satisfying blood.
Blood that sang to him, reached out and pulled him closer. Begged him to take.
No. He wouldn’t dare. Not only had he refrained from drinking human blood since his Silencing, not only was it against the rules, but she’d called him a guardian. Maybe by mistake, but that was just splitting hairs. He would never, ever harm this girl. Would not mar her perfect skin with his fangs. It would make him the monster he refused to be. Focus, dumbass.
What had Tilda said?
Through Mary’s marriage, we will unite the fae and the dark uprising.
Hold the fucking phone. “What now?” Tucker spat.
Tilda’s sinister smile widened. “We fae have subdued our abilities to appear less threatening long enough. We want to play, too.” She pouted. “Those leading the dark uprising welcome all the power they can get. We intend to give it to them and take back the influence we deserve. Maybe a victory will be enough to draw our oh-so-perfect relatives back from the Faerie realm. I suppose only time will tell.”
“Hold up, hold up, hold up.” The room spun around Tucker, his gut rebelling violently. “You’re going to send Mary to something called the ‘dark uprising’?”
“Yes.” Tilda said primly. “Their leader awaits her arrival, along with the marriage decree. Do have her there by this time next week, darling.” She tossed the red envelope containing the game piece to Elias and he caught it in mid-air. “Pass on my regards to the Queen of Shadows.”
Chapter 3
Mary patted a hand along the front of her bureau, feeling for the crystal knob that marked the drawer where she kept her pants and skirts. Below that, her shirt drawer had a lightning bolt carved in front. Opening each in turn, she removed stacks of clothing, turned—careful to avoid the inch-high lip of the area rug—and packed them into a suitcase that was lying open on the bed. The left side of the case was dipped down, thanks to her mother being perched nearby on the edge of the mattress, her radiance sawing against itself like a bow on a violin.
“Mary, please rethink your impulsive decision to have this lack wit convey you to Hadrian.” The bed springs creaked with her mother’s distress. “You realize the vampire is on the opposite side, don’t you, Mary? Your marriage to Hadrian will form the alliance between the abandoned fae and the dark uprising. I’ll have to do some careful maneuvering with your fiancé to avoid him taking this as an insult.”