We entered the House of the Sanguine as if everything were normal. My steps felt light. I’d finally crossed another name off the list. Carlyle would be proud—and Mathias would be next to die.
We were nearly to our room when a scream tore through the mansion. Then another. Shouts erupted in the distance, followed by the heavy slam of doors. Footsteps thundered through the corridors as the house dissolved into chaos around us.
Chapter 26
Mathias
Amber liquid swirled in the tumbler as I toyed with the idea of a second glass. I’d earned this drink after six hours of council meetings where the members did nothing but bicker. Pythia’s daily gazette crinkled in my grip, the scent of ink a nostalgic anchor to a life long discarded. I had just taken a sip when the first scream tore through the silence.
My empathetic magic picked up on a storm cloud of powerful emotions approaching. The whiskey burned a path down my throat as I bolted upright, feeling the panic of a crowd invade my headspace, shouting their emotions. I swallowed the rest of the whiskey before standing. The burn helped. Not much, but enough to push their noise to the edges of my skull so I could function.
A fist pounded on the door. “Lord Regent!” cried someone on the other side of the threshold. “Lord Regent, come quick!”
I looked into the empty tumbler. “Fantastic.”
A cluster of servants and guards escorted me to a candidate’s quarters. They informed me of the disaster along the way. My head ached with the pressure of what they werefeeling—fear, mostly. Those who served the nobility in the mansion always had a healthy dose of it built up for themselves, too used to being punished for events out of their control.
“Lock down the mansion and grounds. No one gets in or out until I say so. Candidates included,” I instructed them. “I expect everyone in this wing to report for questioning. Instruct any candidates and their devotees within these walls to report to the great hall and remain there until further notice.”
“Right away, Lord Regent.” One male peeled off to enact my orders.
I slowed my step for a moment. “Send for Lord Clement. I have need of his talents.” Another servant ran to see to the task.
We entered into Genevieve Mercier’s rooms with the guards leading the way, weapons drawn. A single living soul turned and gasped at the flash of steel, her sudden terror flooding my chest. My heart thudded harder as I approached her.
“You found the body?” I didn't speak to soothe the maid, but to extract the data. Her terror was an inconvenient noise I had to tune out.
The vampiric maid curtsied. “Yes, Lord Regent. She’s over here,” she murmured, inclining her head down.
I drifted over to inspect the scene while also feeling for any sign of guilt or regret from the vampiress now wringing her hands nearby. I sincerely doubted she’d committed this murder. She wasn’t sweating in the proximity of my power nearly enough.
Sighing, I eyed Genevieve’s corpse for any sign of who could’ve done this. Admittedly, she was not a favored candidate to win. I could still see her fangs buried in the throat ofher own devotee, draining the man to a husk just to secure her advancement in the first trial. She had survived the slaughter of her other mates only to feast on the last scrap of loyalty left to her.
I didn’t hate her for the murder; I despised her lack of foresight. To kill your only support for a temporary gain was a fool’s gambit.
A plain stake was embedded through her heart.How could this happen?Our kind rarely sank to the low of using a vampire slayer’s weapon. Though possibly the work of a slayer, it was baffling how one could bypass the mansion’s defenses without getting caught.
Her body had been placed onto the bed, which was sullied with the spreading puddle of her dark blood. Her hair was fanned out and her face peaceful without the ravages of bloodlust. Someone had taken the time to straighten her legs and fold her arms over her stomach.But why?
Outside of her bedroom, the guards were still settling the commotion and herding witnesses into a line for questioning. The fear seeping into the bedroom coated my stomach in queasy nerves.
“This is how you found her?” I turned back to the maid.
She bowed her head. “Yes, Lord Regent. After I knocked and no one answered, I let myself into her quarters for their routine cleaning and found her body on the bed like this.”
This was troubling news. “Go join the line outside this room.” With a nod, she scurried off.
In the meantime, I toured Genevieve’s rooms and conferred with one of the more experienced guards. We agreed; there was no sign of a struggle. It was as if a ghost had walked through a wall and stuck the candidate witha slayer’s weapon. We had to keep the matter of the stake quiet, lest that detail inspired panic.
The next person to enter did so without knocking. I breathed a sigh of relief as Clement Rodgerson swept in, as even and self-assured in his emotions as ever. He and I had once been Queen Nemea’s left and right hands, as useful to her as her kings. With his truth-seeking magic, he would soon have leads on the mysterious killer.
I inclined my head. “Lord Clement.”
He focused on me, his distinctive golden eyes flashing. “Lord Regent.”
He smiled pleasantly, eager as always to use his magic. Unlike the rest of the council, he’d shown no shred of ill will toward me since the Flask selected me for the regent position. Considering how his daughter was competing for the throne, he couldn’t hold the seat due to a conflict of interest.
There was no one I trusted more, so I left him in charge of the questioning while I went to report to the Flask of Dominion. I eased past the sea of faces lined up against the wall while focusing on myself and what I truly felt. It was the only way to avoid the bombardment of uncertainty that threatened to destabilize my headspace.
