I stare into his hazel eyes, the same color as Genevieve’s and try and find the trick. There has to be a trick but… Last week, I was considering turning for the love of my life, spending eternity bound to Bash. Now there is a different vampire prince kneeling before me, begging for my affection. I don’t speak, don’t offer a response.
His eager, hopeful face falls. He stands to his full height, an inch or two shorter than Bash.
“Sister, please escort our guest back to her room. Perhaps, she would like to get a book from the library on the way? Elina, we will have dinner together tomorrow.” I feel the blood drain from my face.Is this a threat? He laughs, easily. “You will eat dinner; I will sit and enjoy your company. You are not in danger.”
Somehow, Nicolas’s assurance of my safety made me feel anything but. He’s more like a wolf in sheep's clothing than any other vampire I have ever met. His feigned kindness, his outreach in an attempt to sway me strikes me as genuine. Butcoupled with my prisoner-status and how quick he is to anger? I can’t help but feel uneasy.
“Should we stop by the library? We have the most accurate archive available in Ville de Sang. I knowlas chiens de sanghave an archive, but it's full of artifice.” Genevieve floats peacefully along the hallway lined with doors, until she reaches one at the end. Throwing the door wide, she exclaims with a flourish, “If there’s something you want to know, there’s no better place to be.”
I stand awestruck in the doorway of, what Nicolas called, the library. It’s a room on one corner of the house, a full wall of glass windows that wrap around hung with heavy, red, velvet drapes. The floors are covered with different rugs in various sizes and patterns, covering the worn and shiny wood. There are a few desks with large comfortable chairs pulled up to them, and a large fireplace with leather armchairs in front. The bookshelves tower above me as I move further into the large room, with ladders spread around for the high shelves. There is heavy dark wood everywhere, and easily a couple thousand books. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.
Smiling at me, Genevieve gestures to the left side of the library. “These are the complete records of the Devereaux family—you may find something interesting over there. Beyond that, there is a section on the other vampire families of Europe, including the Malvanis. Closer to the windows, there are fiction books with a large collection of vampire novels.” She points to the selection, some with half-naked men on the covers. “Please. Feel free to browse. I’ll wait for you outside to escort you back when you’re done.” She drifts out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
Wandering over to the European vampire section, I follow the alphabetized tomes until I find ‘Malvani’ and pull it from the shelf. I put it on one of the desks. Heading back, I look for abook similar to the one I found in the Malvani archive—a family tree. I want to find out exactly where Genevieve and Nicolas fit. Once I find a book that looks promising, I also pick a romance to bring back with me.
“Genevieve, I’m ready,” I call out and she pops her head through the door almost immediately.
Settled back in my gilded prison cell, I sit at my little table and lay the books in front of me. First, I peruse the Malvani book. I don’t find much else than what I already knew from their own archives. The slant is obvious—history is written by the victors—but the story is basically the same. The Devereaux books report that the Blood Ravens invaded Ville de Sang because they arelas chiens de sang—blood dogs—driven by their bloodlust, and incapable of humanity.
All vampires give that impression to me, even those I care about. My goodwill only extends so far.
Cracking open the old spine of a Devereaux family reference, I flip the pages, skimming for anything useful. Locating the family tree, I study the lines connecting everyone. I find an entry explaining the bloodlines, but still, no mention of Nicolas.
Noe and Sabine Devereaux sired 2 children, Seraphine and Timothee. Timothee was bound to Violette in 1604 and they sired a set of twins, Noe and Jean; Jean was killed before his vampire nature matured and Noe went on to bind himself to Delphine in 1864. Their bond led to a single sireling, a son, Ezekiel. Ezekiel served as sovereign to theL’Empire des Ombres Nocturnesbefore he was extinguished when Ville De Sang was captured by the Italians through invasion in 2006. Ezekiel was bound to an unknown woman and sired a lost child in the years leading up to theGuerra de Sang. The exact birthdate of the child is unknown, though it is believed tohave been between 2002 and 2005. The child, presumed to be a daughter, is believed to have been lost during the war. There is no further information. In the absence of a Devereaux heir,L’Empire des Ombres Nocturnesattempted to rebuild through Saraphine’s bloodline.
A lost child?
I sit back in my chair and consider the young vampire who was swallowed up in the bloodshed, as were so many casualties in this turf war. I’m sad for the little family that disappeared. That little baby was the heir and now there is a gaping hole where they would have stood. Suddenly, the room feels too small, too closed up. An entire family line snuffed out so easily, she could have been in this house, maybe in this chair. Leaning in close to study the family tree, I locate Sabine’s two children, Seraphine and Timothee, but Seraphine’s family is missing. Maybe there is another page.
Flipping a few pages further, I find what I am looking for—tucked in the corner of the page is a smaller tree where Seraphine’s line is stretched out. Seraphine was bound to Mathis and they sired Genevieve, but not the one I met, I don’t think. This Genevieve was an only child. She was bound to Armand, and together, they sired Genevieve and Nicolas.Found them. They are distant, second cousins, maybe once removed, of the lost child. A far off branch of the family making a play for the throne. A throne that hasn’t existed in twenty-five years. There aren’t any other options though, the Guerra de Sang resulted in the extinguishing of almost the entire Devereaux line.
Rubbing my temples, a loud sigh echoing in the space, I rest my head on the back of the chair and wish I were anywhere but here. I don’t want to be a part of this.
I can’t figureout why I am.
Exasperated by this line of research, and feeling apathetic about the whole thing, I grab the romance I brought with me and curl up by the window to read.
Tomorrow is a new day, with new challenges.
In my heart, I hope that Bash is getting close. But in my head, I know this is far from over.
