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“Something about a deadly truth I’m about to discover,” Casimir said darkly as he set her back on her feet. He wasn’t about to tell Viviana the details—there was no explanation as to why she remembered some of her prophecies and not others, but in this case, it was a blessing.
“Well, that’s annoyingly vague.” She yawned, swaying on her feet the way she always did after an episode—the visions always exhausted her regardless of their scope or importance. “Would you escort me back to my room, Your Highness? I think I ought to turn in early.”
“Of course.” Casimir offered her his arm.
She frowned at the claw marks that had torn through his sleeve and into his skin. “I’ll ask my father to have this replaced for you,” she said as she looped her arm around his.
“No need. I’ve been meaning to throw this out, anyway.” A lie—this was one of his favorite coats, and he’d only had it made a year ago. But if Viviana told her father about this, he would inquire about the vision. It was clearly about Casimir’s future, and he had no desire for anyone else to know about it until he figured out what it meant.
Casimir looked over Viviana’s head toward the mystery woman to see if there was something about her that would shed some light on this odd bit of prophecy. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary about her aside from her eyes, but he did note the possessive hand Maximillian placed at the small of her back as he led her to the front steps of the castle. She clearly wasn’t just a servant to him—there was some attachment there, strong enough to compel Maximillian to gift her with immortality and make her a permanent member of his house.
But what was it?
And how was she connected tohim?
19
Kitana
“Are you ready for this, Kitana?”
Maximillian’s low voice penetrated through the fog of my thoughts as we sat in the carriage, and I turned away from the view outside to see him watching me. The intensity in his gaze sent nervous energy skittering across my skin, and I fisted my skirts in my hands, resisting the urge to shiver.
“Of course I’m ready,” I said, a slight edge in my tone. “The five of you have been preparing me for this for the last three weeks.” Lessons on etiquette, on vampire politics and history, on vampire bloodlines and house rivalries, on ritual and ceremony, and even dancing. So. Much. Fucking. Dancing. My feet were still sore from all the ballroom lessons Sparrow and Nyra had put me through, which in my opinion were even worse than the brutal training and conditioning drills Lucius had tortured me with every evening. Those at least had a purpose I could appreciate. Even if dancingwasgood footwork training.
“Three weeks isn't nearly enough,” Lucius growled from his seat next to me. I wish I was sitting next to Maximillian instead—the massive warrior took up three quarters of the seat and crowded me against the wall—but for some reason Maximillian insisted upon keeping as much distance between us as possible. He had put up a wall between us after the near kiss we’d shared in the chapel, one I didn’t fully understand, but was grateful for. The last thing I needed was to be distracted by whatever feelings I’d sprouted for him. “Most Descendency candidates have months, sometimes even years, to prepare.”
“You’ve only said that to me half a dozen times, and it isn’t any more helpful now than it was the second time you mentioned it,” I retorted.
Lucius glowered, but Maximillian smiled faintly. “I’m glad you’re not frightened,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “But I want to make sure you remember the part you are here to play. That the world you are about to enter is not like the one we left, and that no matter what you might see or hear, you must not let your mask slip. If you do, even for one second, you could doom us all.”
“I know,” I said quietly. I understood more than he realized what was at stake if I exposed my true nature.
The carriage came to a stop, and I pressed my face to the window, looking at the spiked gates looming just ahead while the driver spoke to the guards. A few seconds later, they opened, and my pulse drummed faster as we drove through the gates and into the courtyard of House Invictus’s stronghold.
The Iron Spire.
A wave of surrealism rippled through me as I realized I was truly here. At the heart of the vampire kingdom, where Vladimir Invictus sat on his accursed throne. At long last, the vampire king would be within staking range, and he would finally answer for the crimes he'd committed not just against witches, but all of Valentaera.
“Easy now,” Maximillian said as bloodlust surged in my veins. He placed a hand on my knee, and the contact send a current of awareness up my thigh, distracting me from my train of thought. “Remember. Until the time comes to strike, you are not Kitana the Vampire Slayer. You are Catherine the Vampire Thrall, my adoring, devoted servant. As long as you play that part, there is nothing to fear.”
I lifted my head to meet his starfire gaze. “I’m not afraid,” I told him, my resolve stronger than ever, and I meant it. With my magical well alive and humming inside me once more, and weeks of training and conditioning under my belt, I felt stronger than ever.
But Maximillian was right. I needed to be careful. I might have my magic and my combat skills, but if I used them before the time was right—if I killed a vampire before I took out the vampire king, the jig would be up. My advantage lied in the vampires assuming I was a harmless little thing, a demure human servant who was utterly loyal to her master and wouldn’t dare dream of laying a hand on her vampire overlords.
The carriage rolled to a stop, and a few seconds later, a footman opened the door. Maximillian disembarked first, followed by Lucius, and then he waited for me, offering his palm so he could help me down.
I accepted his offered hand, then used my other to lift my heavy velvet skirts so I wouldn’t trip as I descended the short platform the footman had placed in front of the carriage door. As my slippered feet alighted on the cobblestones, I craned my neck so I could take in the Iron Spire for the first time.
I used to imagine the Iron Spire as a single tower jutting out of the craggy highlands of Graviton Heights, but the name was a bit of a misnomer. It wasn't one spire, but seven that jutted out of a sprawling castle, each designed to resemble iron spikes. They rose from the ground like colossal daggers, their tips reaching for the star-studded sky of the eternal night. Arranged in a triangular formation, they created an illusion that made the central spire appear the tallest, dominating the heart of the city with its imposing presence. Their metallic surfaces reflected the ghostly light of the moon, lending the entire structure an ethereal glow.
“It’s impressive, isn’t it?” Maximillian said from beside me.
“It is,” I agreed, trying not to sound begrudging. After all, we were surrounded by Vladimir’s servants. I couldn’t afford to sound anything less than impressed. “Beautiful, even.”
An icy wind whipped my skirts around my ankles, and I dropped my gaze to adjust my outfit. As I did, I felt a set of eyes on me, and I scanned the courtyard, looking for the watchful presence. But there were too many vampires here, some milling about and chatting while others hurried about doing chores. Any of them could have been looking at me.
“Let’s get inside,” Maximillian said. He placed a hand at the small of my back, leading me toward the front steps that led to the castle entrance. The doors had been thrown wide open, andas we ascended the steps, a male figure stepped out from behind a pillar.
