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Plus, it’s not like I don’t know they’re there. Their entire presence is like a black fucking hole, dragging me into its unknown depths. Will I be crushed in a gravity well or end up on Planet of the Apes? Nobody knows.
And apparently, I’m not the only one who is feeling the weight of their presence. By the way people look at them, talk to them…admire them, they might as well be the president of the United States. Hell, I’m pretty sure they’re more powerful.
Sighing, I lean back in my chair and take a sip of my stupid, nonalcoholic water. Being shunned from their attention shouldn’t hurt, but it does. And it hurts even more as the redhead strolls by the balcony with a dark smirk on her lips when she sees them ignoring me.
Maybe if I just hit her with an icicle… Ugh, if only I knew how. I’m not exactly Elsa from Frozen. Silence falls over the room as the heavy wooden doors to the arena burst open and a gust of wind causes the crowd to gasp.
“He’s here,” Asher murmurs.
Jedidiah, the vampire everyone has been waiting for.
This is the man who sired Drystan and Irena? I expected him to look older, more waxen and gaunt. He is, after all, at least a thousand years Drystan’s senior. The images I’ve always conjured up when they talked about him are something more akin to Lord Voldemort and less like an older Jared Leto as Morbius.
Even from this distance, I can tell he’s nearly as tall as Drystan. He’s wearing a dark, fitted suit and holding a long, opulent cane in his hand that moves gracefully with him. The three men around me stiffen, low growls erupting from deep in their chests. The atmosphere on the balcony shifts, tensions rising as Jedidiah strides our way.
Drystan’s hand grips my neck, his fingers tightening on the soft flesh as he bows my head. He murmurs something to the others that’s too low for me to hear, but I can tell it isn’t something nice.
“If it isn’t my darling son.” Jedidiah’s voice is thick with condescension as he comes to a stop in front of our balcony. “I’m told that my dear daughter is taking part in the fights. I’m surprised you would let that happen. It’s very careless of you.”
Drystan growls at the insult. Jedidiah knows full well that there was nothing he could have done to prevent Irena from participating in the fights. Drystan isn’t her sire, and from what I’ve gathered, a sire is the only one who can veto her participation, unless the sire is no longer alive, and then the clan leader can decide.
But Irena’s sire is alive—unfortunately.
The census on vampires astounds me. Every birth, death, and detail is recorded with meticulous precision. It puts the human government census to shame and makes it seem like child’s play in comparison.
“Jedidiah,” Drystan drawls, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “Here I was hoping you would have forfeited this year.”
Drystan’s sire laughs, a deep rumble that echoes through the room. “Forfeiting is for cowards, my son.”
“You would know all about cowardice,” Drystan retorts, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Jedidiah responds with a guttural snarl in another language, possibly Arabic. Drystan simply laughs in response.
“Don’t threaten me, Jedidiah,” he hisses, his grip tightening on my already sore neck. “Remember that I know where all your skeletons are buried.” Jedidiah scoffs, but there’s a hint of unease in his eyes.
“I’d be more worried about your little pet here.” My breath catches as Drystan’s hand tightens even further. “How interesting that you brought a sahira to the Elysium,” Jedidiah continues in a low voice. He keeps his words quiet, knowing that we are surrounded by other powerful vampires who could easily overhear. But how many of them know that sahira means witch? I glance around at the confused faces surrounding us.
None of the Kings bother to respond, but their silence only fuels Jedidiah’s taunting words. He takes a step closer to me, and without thinking, I pull away from Drystan’s punishing grip. In an instant, all three Kings jump into action, ready to protect me from any harm. Knowing he can’t touch me without incurring the wrath of the vampires around us, Jedidiah raises his hand in a traditional gesture of surrender and takes a step back.
“Don’t worry,” he mocks. “I won’t lay a finger on your pretty plaything.”
With Drystan’s hand no longer restricting my movements, I slowly tilt my head up to meet the vampire’s gaze. His lips curl into a chilling smile, revealing his sharp fangs in a lethal display.
“Move along, Jedidiah,” Asher warns with a dangerous edge to his voice. “Before I decide to break the neutrality law by ripping your throat open with my teeth.”
The vampire just chuckles, unfazed by the threat. “Good luck in the fights, boys,” he says as he walks away, his laughter echoing through the room. “And I’ll be sure to give my daughter a good pep talk before her bout.” Drystan curses under his breath as his sire walks away, still chuckling confidently.
Weylen turns to one of their guards. “Take Reaper and Cruz with you and guard Irena. Make sure that Jedidiah and his cronies don’t come anywhere near her. Clear?”
“Yes, sir,” the guard answers before pulling two of the men from the line up and hustling from the room.
“Fuck,” Drystan growls. “How the fuck does he know about Thalia?”
Asher shakes his head, his fingers gripping his phone tightly. I can see the tension in his posture and feel it radiating off him.
“He shouldn’t,” he mutters, glancing up at me before returning his attention to the screen. “Her scent is too strongly masked. We tested it on the way in here. No one was able to scent her properly.”Despite his words, I can tell that Asher is still worried.
The three of them settle into their seats, brushing off the attendants who are attempting to alleviate the tense atmosphere. The crowd around us continues to buzz with excitement, but there is a sense of unease lingering beneath it all. They go back to talking amongst themselves, going right back to ignoring me again. I let out a sigh and turn my gaze back to the arena. It seems that now that Jedidiah has arrived, things are swinging into full gear. All twenty of the rings are filled with fighters now, their muscled bodies glistening with sweat as they warm up for their matches. The noise around me increases tenfold as more bets are taken and people shout and cheer on their favorite fighters.Despite being somewhat removed from the rabble, I can still feel the energy coursing through my body.
My gaze wanders to the countdown timers placed strategically around the arena. With how many fights were listed on the schedule, I was afraid we would be here well into the early hours of the morning. But with how quickly fighters are being eliminated, I have a feeling we’ll be in the semi-finals sooner than expected.
