Page 4 of Curiosity Killed The Vampire

The command hit like a jolt. I was at Rene’s side before I’d fully processed it, pressing my palm to his chest. His skin was cold—far too cold for a creature who burned with ancient fire. I reached inward, pulling on my magic, the blood-born energy that had been unsteady since Valerian’s interference. It surged under my skin, crackling through my veins like lightning seeking ground.

Raven placed her hand over mine, her magic a cool, steady counterpoint. “Breathe it into him,” she guided. “Not too much—just enough to stabilize.”

Power spilled from me in a pulse of light that rippled through the room. It hit Rene’s core, his chest arching as if his body had forgotten how to hold life and was relearning it in an instant. For a heartbeat, the entire mansion seemed to hold its breath. The chandeliers flickered, shadows jerking against the walls in uneasy motions.

Then Rene gasped, air shuddering back into his lungs. His eyes opened—brighter, clearer, but haunted, as if something inside him had walked too close to an edge and seen what waited below.

Raven exhaled shakily, her hand gripping his. “You’re all right,” she murmured, though her voice cracked on the last word.

I staggered back, my own energy frayed, the room tilting for a moment before it steadied. “What the hell is going on?”

Raven turned to me, her face pale but resolute. “We’re running out of time.”

Lazar’s lips curled in something that might have been a smile but felt more like contempt. “So the king bleeds after all,” he said softly, sounding more unimpressed than alarmed, as if a dying ruler were an inconvenience to his plans rather than a crisis for our world.

Ursula’s hand clenched around the armrest of her chair hard enough that the ancient wood creaked. “Enough, Lazar,” she hissed, her composure fraying at the edges. Her face had gone ashen, her fear stark in the flickering light. Her gaze cut to me, urgent. “You cannot keep him alive with borrowed magic forever, Cassara,” she said, her voice lower, the concern beneath her authority briefly exposed. “We are already asking too much of you, and of him.”

William stood abruptly, his voice carrying authority that brooked no argument. “This meeting is adjourned.”

Raven nodded once, already helping Rene to his feet. “I’ll take him to his chambers.”

Con and I stepped aside as she guided him toward the doors, her magic a shimmer around them both. When they disappeared down the corridor, silence closed in again. The others filtered out one by one—Ursula without another word, Lazar with that same infuriating, dismissive smirk, and William last, his expression grim and calculating.

When the doors finally shut, I sank into the nearest chair, the weight of what had just happened pressing down hard on my shoulders.

Con stood beside me, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the empty doorway. “We have to find the next piece.”

I rubbed my temples, my pulse still uneven. “You think that’ll help him?”

“I think it’s the only thing that can.” His tone was low, deliberate. “The clan’s beginning to notice his decline.”

I looked up quickly. “How do you know that?”

He hesitated for a moment, just long enough to tell me he’d debated whether to tell me the truth. “Because Edward asked me to support him.”

I stared. “Support him? As in⁠—?”

“As in he’s preparing for the possibility that Rene won’t be here when the election begins.”

The words hit like a physical blow.

For a heartbeat, I couldn’t breathe. Rene—our king, our anchor, the unbreakable pillar of every clan, was fading. And if that were true, if even Edward doubted his survival…

Then everything—our alliances, our order, our fragile peace—was about to collapse.

I met Con’s gaze, the old fire flaring between us, sharper now, forged in fear and resolve. “Then we’d better move fast,” I said. “Before the world realizes the king of vampires is dying.”

The moment we stepped out of the ballroom, the heavy doors closing behind us with a dull thud, the sound hit—extreme voices, boots scraping against marble, the low growl of vampiric tempers just short of boiling over.

The foyer was chaos.

Siris stood in the center of it, flanked by half a dozen of his loyalists from Shadow Demon. Their suits were impeccable, their manners not. Opposite them, Edward and his people—including a few death dealers—stood shoulder to shoulder, forming a living barricade in front of the staircase. The tension between the two groups crackled in the air like a live current.

“You have no right to keep us from him!” Siris shouted, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling. “Rene’s condition affects all clans. If he is unfit to rule, the conclave should be notified⁠—”

Edward’s jaw flexed, his green eyes flashing dangerously. “Watch your tongue. You’ll address him as Overseer Roth until such time as he says otherwise.”

“Oh, I see,” Siris sneered, lips curling to reveal a hint of fang. “Still pretending he’s capable of leading? Tell me, Edward—does the great Rene Roth even remember his own name tonight?”