Page 293 of Sorrow & Strangers

“Want me to be happy, and this will make me happy.”

I exhale heavily. “Let me think about it?”

“So you’ll do it?” he asks, his smile playful.

“You need to ask your sisters, and if they agree, I’ll think about it.”

Rafe smiles widely and starts to smother my face in kisses. I laugh, feeling loved for the first time in my life.

Chapter One Hundred Twenty-One

Summer

Ilook at my packed bag, mentally checking off all the items I’ll need for my trip to Drãculea. I’ve not told Alice that I’m going. All I mentioned was that I need to visit a different realm this weekend for a project. It isn’t a total lie, but the project I need to complete is a recon mission of my own. She asked me to take the stranger, but I haven’t done so. I considered it, but he will make me more noticeable, though if I think about it too long, guilt and nerves gnaw at me for not telling him. He will not be happy with me when he finds out, but more importantly, lying to him now just feels wrong.

I activate the rune on the bag, turning it into a ring, and look at myself in the mirror. I’ve gone a little heavier on the makeup, and I’m wearing a black ripped minidress and thigh-high black boots. My hair is braided to hide my ears, reminding me of how I used to wear it in the mortal realm. I look at the rune on the palm of my hand that would allow me into Drãculea. It had taken a lot of trial and error to get it to work properly, plus it wasn’t easy to build a rune that would hide my scent. This may be a poor plan, but at least I’m more prepared than I was for Hell.

I slice a finger on my other hand and brush the cut over the rune. The blood sinks into the rune and starts to glow, the portal opening in front of me. I push my phone into my bra and step through it into the eerily empty street. I’m on the same bridge that Alice and I always come through because it was easiest to find the thin part of the veil here.

The portal snaps closed behind me, and I frown at the empty streets. It’s getting late, but this is when vampires thrive. In the times I’ve been here before, the night is when the city comes alive as vampires enjoy their full power beneath the moonlight.

I walk over the bridge, and I’m surprised that the streets feel more oppressive than usual, the lights dimmer, and the shadows deeper. After the time I’ve spent here, the streets are familiar. It is just eerie how deserted they are. I pass a lamppost and stop, backtracking to look at the poster pinned to it. Anger stokes inside me when I see Alice’s face on it, and beneath her picture there is a bounty listed.

I rip it from the post and fold it up, stowing it in my sheath.

“What are you doing?” a male snarls from behind me, and I glance at the vampire. He has a dusty pallor, and I can see that he is not one of the powerful in the realm. He is standing in front of the open door to the tavern, glancing around nervously.

I brush my hand over my dagger on my thigh. This is the test. Can he scent me?

“The curfew,” he whisper-shouts, gesturing for me to come closer.

Just then, there is the sound of feet marching through the streets. I can’t see them, but I can tell they are close. My body moves before I have made the decision, hurtling toward him and pushing him back into the tavern. He curses as he closes the heavy door, plunging the tavern into darkness before he lights a couple of lanterns.

“Did you come from one of the villages?” he asks, blowing out the match. He mustn’t even have enough magic to light them. “The capital is under strict curfew for the next month.”

“I’ve been off realm. What is the reason for the curfew?” I ask, my hand hovering over my dagger, ready to pull it out at any moment.

He stares at me, and then he lunges, his fangs flashing in the light of the lanterns as he goes for my throat. I duck and kick him in the chest. He flies back, crashing into the chairs and tables. Before he has time to recover, I have my knife at his throat.

“Imposter,” he growls. His eyes flash red, but they’re much duller than Alice’s. He’s a bottom-feeder, a dweller.

“Tell me about the curfew,” I say, pressing the knife deeper into his flesh. He hisses as the silver makes his skin sizzle.

He snarls and spits in my face. His spittle hits my cheek. I smirk and slam my hands against his chest as I stand. Sneering down at him, I stamp down on his leg, shattering the bone. He shrieks in pain, and my darkness stretches inside me. “Tell me. About. The. Curfew,” I demand, willing to do fucking anything for my family, including causing pain. Maybe even more than that.

“Curfew in effect . . .” He tries to sit up, and I jam my knee into his chest, pressing him back to the floor. “Until . . . funeral. Bitch.”

I grab his wrist and slam his hand down against the floor, stabbing my dagger into his palm. I pin it to the wooden floor. His flesh starts to smoke, and he screams. The silver in the blade, combined with the rune engraved into it, burns him like sunlight would. Only vampires who harness as much power as the great Alice Legosi can sun walk. It’s only those from the royal bloodline, and it gives them an edge over their subjects.

I wait for him to stop screaming and ask, “And the plan for the succession?” The vampire hisses, struggling to get away from the pain. He pulls his hand, but the blade just tears through his palm, causing more pain and damage. “I saw the poster about Elvira. What do they want, hmm?”

“Long live the . . . true heir!” the vampire snarls. He struggles against me but can’t get out from beneath my knee on his chest. Snapping his teeth at me, he howls as he yanks his hand free, splitting it in half. Before I’ve registered what he’s done, he yanks it from the floor and plunges it into his own chest. His screams continue to echo off the walls even after he turns to dust.

I curse and pick up the dagger, wiping it off on a tablecloth before stowing it away again. This time, when I leave the tavern, I stay in the shadows. Stealthily, I stalk through the empty streets and alleyways. The only signs of life are the glimpses I catch through windows of the vampires cloistered inside. From what I know of vampiric culture, there is usually a period of mourning that includes candles and offerings in the streets, but there is nothing. I frown at the lack of a memorial for their beloved leader. He may have ruled with a tyrannical hand, but the vampires revered him.

I look up to the top of the hill, at the looming castle, but even that shows no signs of mourning. There are no markings on the building, no smoke coming from the chimney. It almost looks deserted.

I spend another hour in Drãculea, but when I come up empty, I decide to go home to regroup before coming back. Plus, I’m covered in vampire blood from that asshole, and it’s black and gross. I slide into a darker alley and I press the rune on my hand to activate the portal. I step back into my bedroom, expecting the sense of safety and comfort that I associate with home. Instead, my shoulders lift, and my instincts blare when his anger washes over me in a frigid wave. My eyes lock onto his shadowy form sitting on the edge of the bed.