I fingered the stem. It was warm. Fresh. My gut twisted. Had they just taken this from a donor?
“Mmm,” Cynthia said next to me, taking a sip.
I swallowed on air. I was thirsty, even more aware now that blood had been served. I should drink it. I didn’t want to risk hurting anyone, least of all Thea.
But gods forsake me, it’s awful.
I took a reluctant sip and didn’t quite manage to squash the face I made.
“I guess you must get used to the taste with time,” I said, as I caught Cynthia looking at me with concern.
Her brows pinched. “You don’t care for the blood?” She twisted as if to call the server, and I quickly put a palm on her arm.
“No, no. It’s my own issue. The blood was fine.”It tastes like all blood tastes. Sour, rotten. Except Raphael’s. I took another sip to prove it. My throat squeezed shut in protest as I forced it down.
Another disbelieving look, but we all returned to the game. I shook the bone dice in a loose grip and flung them, while the others loosed theirs in controlled spins.
It was easy enough to talk during the game, and conversation moved around. Politics, gossip, trade. Not with the Witch Kingdom. Instead, it seemed several of the vampires were involved in trade networks involving the Southern Vampire Kingdom, who thus connected them with other posts. I sipped the awful blood as I listened. If anything, it seemed to make the thirst worse. Raphael had said I’d need to drink at least once a day, but this was atrocious. I drank it like a child drank bittermedicine, while all around me the others savored their sanguine beverages.
I distracted myself from the thirst by continuing to focus on the hints interspersed in the conversation. I wasn’t sure if any of it was useful, but I listened all the same, trying to commit it all to memory. Maybe if I learned enough, I could be more strategic in how I used my powers, whenever they deigned to manifest.
The vampires around me continued to laugh and joke, teasing each other and—when brave—Thea and me as well. They’d relaxed about our status, and for the most part treated us as friends in their circle. They had anxieties and tells and pride just like everyone else I’d ever known.
The realization was a bit uncomfortable.
Maybe I wouldn’t need to kill, to punish. As the necromancer, I had to dosomething. But the magic in me seemed to crave violence, and I… I wasn’t sure I wanted to hurt anyone.
“Oh, your turn,” Cynthia urged me when I’d stopped paying attention to the game. “You’re really close!”
I scanned the table and saw she was right. I wasn’t quite as skilled as Thea, but with the right roll I’d get there. I shook the dice with two hands, the way I’d seen some others do for luck, and gave a roll.
They spun and spun… and there! The eight-sided one fell to one of the two sides I needed. That meant the six-sided one… I must’ve hit it just right because it spun around and around, slowing as different numbers flitted across the top. A four or greater would win the round.
No! A three.
Then it twisted again, just when I’d thought it finally stopped, landing on a five.
“Very good,” Thea cheered, as someone across the table reluctantly pushed the pile my way.
“Gosh, you’re good,” Cynthia said. “Beginner’s luck? Or have you played before?”
I shrugged, uncomfortable with the attention. “It must be luck. I’ve never really played games like this.”
“Oh? What did you play, growing up in the Witch Kingdom?” a vampiress across the table asked, manicured brow arched. “From what I’ve heard, those uptight witches don’t know how to have any fun.” She smirked, the tip of her fang peeking out, still stained red from the blood she’d been sipping.
“They play games,” I said, the hair on the back of my neck prickling. I didn’t like her dismissive tone. “It’s only card games that are considered heretical.” Since enchanted cards were sacred. They were what separated the mortals from the monsters.
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “How many gambling halls have you stepped in before?”
Gods, her tone made me want to snarl.How dare she look down on the humans?
“None. How many humans have you killed?” The words flew from my lips before I could stop them.
The woman jerked back. “What? None!”
Liar.
I slapped a palm over my mouth. “I apologize. I don’t know why I said that.” And it was true. Yes, the woman had been a bit snooty, but that didn’t make her a killer.
