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“It’s not like that, chérie,” Asher beseeches, his hands coming to rest on my legs. I don’t pull away. I can’t, there’s nowhere for me to go.
“Don’t try to butter me up with lies,” I sneer, pushing his hands away. An action I regret immediately. I hiss as pain radiates up my palms and into my wrists. “I’m not that naïve. You didn’t just take me because my brother owed you a debt. There were plenty of options.”
“You’re right, little lamb,” Drystan’s deep voice sneers as he stands from his chair and stalks toward me. “There were plenty of options. I could have slit your brother’s throat. Given your sister to our men. Hell, I could have given you to my men. Some of them haven’t tasted a witch’s blood in decades, and the foundlings? They would drain you dry with the way you taste.”
The heat in my cheeks vanishes, and I feel myself pale at his words. Not because they’re crass or violent, but because they’re true. He could have done any of those things, but he didn’t. They didn’t. It just cements what my brother told me. They need me. I haven’t had contact with Evan since the initial call. I’ve been stalling because I want to believe that it isn’t true, but staring into Drystan’s cold, unfeeling eyes, I know I’ve been lying to myself.
“But you didn’t,” I point out, curling my lips in disgust. “Which means you need me for something. If it isn’t the amulet, then what is it?”
“How do you even know about your mother’s heirloom?” Weylen eyes me askance. “No one knows about it. Not even our own people. So how the fuck do you?” My heart beats faster as his accusatory tone reaches my ears. I flinch, knowing that I’ve dug myself into a deep hole this time. My mind races with regret as I replay the moment I mentioned the amulet, fueled by anger and not thinking clearly. I realize now that I should have kept my mouth shut. How could I know about it unless someone told me? But I can’t give up my brother…or maybe I can. The weight of the decision presses down on me like a heavy boulder, threatening to crush me under its pressure. Sweat beads on my forehead as I struggle with the thought of giving away the only leverage I have. But maybe I can make this work to my advantage.
“Evan,” I tell them. “When he sold me to you to pay his debt.”
The three Kings exchange a brief, unreadable look, their eyes darting between each other in silent communication. Despite my best efforts to remain calm, I pray my quickened breaths and racing heart hide the half-truth I just uttered. I hold on to the hope that they won’t be able to detect my deceit through the pain that has my vitals going crazy.
“How does your brother know about it?” Drystan growls, leaning down to get in my face.
“Ask him.” I shrug. “He dropped one hell of a bombshell on me the day I left.” Technically true, just not in the way they think. “I already told you he’s the reason I know about witches. He sat me down, banged the gavel on my fate, and then warned me about your plans. What you planned to use me for.”
Asher shakes his head, eyes darkening. “And what does he think that is, Thalia? Do enlighten us.”
“He said it would make you invincible.”With a defiant tilt of my chin, I challenge them to accuse me of lying. “That you would rule over not just vampires, but all supernatural,” I emphasize, my voice dripping with conviction.
The air between us thickens with tension as they exchange a knowing look. Then the unthinkable happens. Suddenly, the three powerful Kings, the most powerful vampires on the East Coast, burst into roaring laughter. Their deep, rumbling chuckles echo off the walls of the room, making it seem like the very foundation is shaking with mirth. My heart races, and my palms grow clammy as I wait for their response, unsure whether their reaction is genuine or a ploy to throw me off. But then I realize with a pang that this is just another reminder of how powerful and untouchable they truly are.
When they finally calm down, Drystan sits beside me. Gently, he takes my small, damaged hand in his large, calloused one. “There is no magic in the world that can make anyone invincible,” he says softly, mirth still tingeing his voice. “The amulet in which your brother is referring to is known as Adalligatum Mortis et Interitus. It means Amulet of Death and Destruction.”
Something familiar flashes in my memory, but it’s gone before I can grab it.
“What does it do?” I ask curiously. If it doesn’t bestow powers, then what do they need it for? They’re vampires, which means they’re immortal and nearly impossible to kill. They stay young forever without a hint of aging or disease.
“It can kill an Ancient.”
Ancient…
“Is that a type of vampire?” I’ve never heard of an Ancient before.
Asher nods. “Ancients are very old and powerful,” he tells me patiently. “The closer a vampire is to the original bloodline, the stronger and more impenetrable they are. They’re faster. Stronger. Everything about them is deadlier.”
“Drystan is an Ancient vampire,” Weylen adds. I look over at Drystan, whose face is still an unreadable mask. “His human bloodline is one of the closest to the original bloodline of the first vampire.”
What now? My head is spinning even more than it was after I exploded the antiquities room.
“So you two aren’t Ancients?” I look between Asher and Weylen. They shake their heads.
“It’s about the human DNA, little lamb.” Drystan’s voice is soft. “No one can know for sure when the first vampire was created, but many believe it was during the time Moses freed the Jews from Egypt or possibly from the time after Adam and Eve fled the garden.”
That’s a distinct time period. I don’t know much about biblical history, but I know that Moses leading the chosen people across the red sea is one of the biggest events in biblical history pre-Jesus. What I don’t understand is how it could be related to a man being cursed as a vampire. The Egyptian empire is one of the oldest empires in human history, right along with the Chinese, the Indus, and Mesopotamia.
It also happens to be a civilization that was steeped in magic and the occult long before there was a name for it. Then there’s the Adam and Eve theory. It wouldn’t have been from their time in the garden. It could have been one of their offspring. Maybe Cain or one of Cain’s sons.
I can’t help but voice my curiosity. “How can you tell who’s an Ancient and who isn’t?”
Asher chuckles at my question. “Always the little historian. Ancient vampires are reborn with a mark on their skin and the ability to walk in daylight.”
I pause for a moment, trying to process this new information. “But you said it was a myth perpetuated by vampires,” I point out. The three Kings exchange smirks, making them look even more menacing with their hard faces and predatory eyes.
“It used to be a myth,” Drystan confirms with a sly smile. “As our bloodline grew thinner, so did our powers. Within years of my rebirth, no vampire could withstand sunlight without being reduced to ash.”
