One Bite (11 page)

“Kirill, darling,” Serafina said, holding out her hand.
“How delightful to see you.
I do hope I haven’t come at an inconvenient time?”

It took more effort than Kirill wanted to admit to keep the snarl from his face. “Not at all,” he said smoothly, leaning down to lay a kiss on her hand. “Though I’m afraid I was about to retire for the day.”

“Oh, yes, how silly of me.”
Serafina swept past him and into the sitting room just off the main foyer, leaving Kirill to trail after her. “I was just out and about and a little birdie told me you’d been looking for me.” She turned and seated herself on the loveseat. “Were you?”

Kirill tore his mind away from Irina and forced himself to focus on Serafina. For the first time that he could remember, Kirill didn’t want to speak with the sorceress. Right now, Irina was more valuable to him than Serafina’s vague prophecies and cloudy information. The tidbits he used to be so desperate for seemed to pale in comparison to the real world connections his fair maiden had and right now he needed to get some sleep so he could begin looking into the attempts on her life.

“Am I boring you, Kirill?”

The icy tone warned Kirill that he was in danger of making an enemy. He offered Serafina a seductive smile and slid onto the loveseat beside her. “My Lady, how could I possibly be bored with you?”

“Do not patronize me, Kirill.”

The frost in her voice stopped him cold. Kirill’s instincts screamed at him that something was wrong. He raised his right hand to take hers, letting his left drop to where the blade lay strapped to his side. His mind spun quickly and he decided the best defense would be a good offense.

“Sera, do not toy with me. Pretending that it is I who
have
lost interest is beneath you. You know that I have been searching for you. When will you stop running from me? When will you stop visiting right before dawn, when you know that my time with you is limited?” He leaned in baring his fangs slightly as he dragged his gaze down the graceful slope of her neck. He tried to force seduction into his voice, but it felt strange when it wasn’t Irina sitting beside him. “Must I drag you to my bed to get the answers I want from you?”

She tried to turn away from him, but Kirill growled low in his throat and grabbed her chin. Pushing thoughts of Irina from his mind, he covered Serafina’s mouth with his own. Her soft lips did not part as willingly as they used to and Kirill didn’t know if her passion for him had waned or if it was he who had moved on.

Furious with himself and with his circumstances, Kirill dragged a fang across her lip. Blood swelled and his senses flooded with need. He was hungry.

A dam seemed to burst in Serafina and she folded against his body, surrendering to the kiss. Her tongue danced along his lip and he had to fight not to bite it. The desire that had always come willingly enough when he romanced her seemed beyond his reach somehow. His bloodlust was similar, but he wasn’t certain he could maintain the charade.

He tore his mouth from the kiss, needing to stop, to think for a moment. How could he concentrate on manipulating the sorceress when Irina was lying upstairs in his bed, recovering from a second attempt on her life?

“Kirill, bond yourself with me.”

No other words could have shocked him more. Kirill jerked away without meaning to, staring at Serafina. His mouth opened slightly before he remembered to close it, struggling to regain his composure. The blush on Serafina’s cheeks almost made him sick as a sudden sense that he had somehow betrayed Irina took hold of him.

“Do not look so shocked, Kirill,” Serafina purred. “You know that is where this has been going, where it’s always been going. You have such a beautiful, calculating mind, Kirill. You will be king someday, of that I have no doubt. And I can help you.”

She laid her palm against his cheek. Kirill could do little more than blink. The sorceress had to have gone insane.
Bond with her?
She had never even trusted him with the location of her home, had made it perfectly clear that she didn’t trust him. He struggled to make his brain work. What could she possibly be thinking?

“Kirill, have I not always been there to help you?”

“Of course,” Kirill answered automatically. It was the truth. Serafina had always been there with helpful advice, aiding Kirill in his hoarding of power. Still, when it came to what he truly wanted to know, the World Tree prophecy, she had always offered him just enough to make him believe she knew something, but had always stopped short of telling him something he didn’t already know.

“Sera, a bond between a vampire and his partner is forever,” Kirill said slowly, carefully. “Why would you want to be tied to me so?”

“You do not believe I have feelings for you?” She pouted and traced a finger down his jawbone.

“I would hope you have feelings for me,” Kirill assured her, scrambling to stay in control. He gave himself a hard mental kick. Seduction was second nature to him, one of the most infamous tools of the trade in politics. Why was he all of a sudden like an untried boy, bumbling about and sticking his foot in his mouth?
Irina, what have you done to me?

“But?”
Serafina pulled back, the soft look in her eyes hardening until her irises were chips of glass.

“Let us not have this conversation now, not when I must sleep soon,” Kirill insisted, forcing a smile on his face. He tried to offer her a convincing leer. “If we are going to discuss bonding together, then I want to be able to celebrate…properly.”

Serafina smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Of course, my darling.
I will see you when the sun sets.”

Irina’s eyes burned as she stared into the rising sun. The breeze slid its icy fingers through her wet hair and sent a shiver down her spine. Despite the cold and the dazzling light, Irina stood stock still…waiting. As soon as the sun was fully above the horizon she could leave, without any fear that Kirill would follow her.
If he would even be inclined to do so.

“Why are you crying?”

A gravelly voice made her turn. A stone form turned to fully face her, grey wings making a strange rocky sound as they moved. It had an almost feline head with thick paws and sharp teeth. It thick body reminded Irina of a jungle cat, only smaller. If it had fur, the illusion would be complete. Irina tried to summon a smile for the little gargoyle, but she couldn’t quite manage it. Kirill’s words kept coming back to her.

“Sera, do not toy with me. You know that I have been searching for you. When will you stop running from me? When will you stop visiting right before dawn, when you know that my time with you is limited
?…
Must I drag you to my bed to get the answers I want from you?”

He calls her Sera.
Irina couldn’t get that thought out of her mind. She hadn’t meant to spy, had only wanted to let Kirill know that she was all right, and to thank him for saving her life again. The last thing she’d expected to find was the vampire prince wooing her stepmother.
It shouldn’t hurt this bad
, she thought sadly. She should just be grateful that the sorceress hadn’t noticed her. Who knows? Kirill might have killed her himself just to win Serafina’s aid in becoming king.

“Irina?”

She raised her eyebrows, the gargoyle’s use of her name drawing her back to the present. “How did you know my name?”

The gargoyle tilted its head. “All of the creatures in the kingdom know your name. Your father made sure of it.”

“My father?”
Irina’s eyes filled with tears, this time for her father. She turned to face the gargoyle, her thoughts finally moving away from the unexpected pain of Kirill’s wandering affection. “You knew my father?”

The gargoyle nodded. “Your father was a wise man. He was loved by many creatures in this kingdom, and that is not an easy task,” the gargoyle said solemnly. “He cared for you very much. He wanted to make certain that you would be looked out for even if he passed.”

“He didn’t pass,” Irina hissed. “He was killed by that sorceress.
That sorceress who was here not an hour ago, practically in the lap of the prince who’s been feigning kindness to me.”
She crossed her arms, looking toward the sun. “And besides, my father married that horrible woman. Nothing put me in more danger than that.”

“Your father married a woman who taught you everything that he could not. He was a good man who made friends easily, but he was hopeless at true politics and even more lost with magic.” The gargoyle shrugged. “Not unusual for a human.”

Irina fought to keep the surprise off her face. She hadn’t thought anybody knew about her father’s lineage. His bond with her mother, a type of water nymph called the
berehynia
, had kept him immortally young and given him a slight magical aura just through that bond. To her knowledge, everyone had just assumed he was a weaker fey. When she looked back at the gargoyle, it was staring at her with a knowing gleam in its eyes.

“Your father’s charm was all personality. Glamour had nothing to do with it.”

It was a compliment and Irina took it as such. She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the cold. “Quite the opposite of Kirill,” she murmured. “That vampire has no respect for friendship or love. Not surprising, considering his family, but still.” She cleared her throat, angry with herself for getting choked up. “I thought I saw something in him.”

“Then leave.”

Irina jerked around, her lips parting in surprise at the gargoyle’s simple, cold statement. “What?”

“You think so little of the prince, then leave.”

Something about the gargoyle’s words made Irina think it was angry with her, but both its face and tone remained completely calm and neutral. She frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The gargoyle shrugged. “You think Prince Kirill is cold and calculating to the point of being incapable of true affection.”

“I never said that!”

“I’m older than this
castle,
you didn’t need to say it. You have that
mopey
look on your face that women get when they think their affections are not being returned. Based on what I’ve seen of you and Prince Kirill, I can only assume it is he who has put that look on your face.”

Irina turned away, a lump rising in her throat. “I was hidden away for so long,” she said quietly. “And it was all right, I didn’t mind. I have friends who visited me and my daily walks with my huntsman.” She cleared her throat. “Kirill is quite intense. And maybe I do feel something for him. But his actions could not speak any clearer. Kirill cares about attaining the
throne,
he has no time to care for anything else.”
Except my stepmother, apparently
.

“So as I said before,” the gargoyle said calmly, “why don’t you just leave?”

Memories of Kirill and his kisses filled Irina’s head. She was a descendent of the
rusalki
,
it was only natural that she would feel such sensations so strongly. But that wasn’t enough. She would not share the bed of someone who could not love her, or would not love her. It was time she admitted that Kirill did not have more to offer her. Shoulders slumping, Irina finally nodded. “You’re right. I should leave now, before things grow more complicated.”

The gargoyle stared after her as she moved back into the bedroom and grabbed her cloak. With the royal family asleep in their hidden coffins, there was no one to stop Irina from leaving. Not that Kirill would want to stop her anyway. She’d served her purpose, he would probably be glad to see her leave.

Just as she had last time, Irina sang on her way through the various hallways, charming the castle’s inhabitants. It wasn’t a strong spell, which was what made it so effective. The magic was only barely there, not enough to put anyone’s defenses up, but just enough to walk out the front door unmolested. If the castle’s layout wasn’t so convoluted, it wouldn’t have taken her so bloody long to get out.

The walk back to the dwarves’ cottage wasn’t far, but it felt like eternity. The wind nipped at her cheeks, and she huddled into her cloak. The boots she wore were the same that she had worn to the troll king’s court, better than slippers, but still not ideal for trudging through snow. Halfway to her destination, Irina paused to rest under a sprawling tree. The thick, black, twisted branches broke up the white sky as Irina leaned against the trunk and looked up. She was tired and sad, and for the first time in her life, she just wanted to sit and wallow in her misery for a moment.

“Child, whatever has brought such sadness to your face?”

Irina raised her gaze to see an old woman on the forest path. Her face was withered by the cold, but her soft grey eyes were kind. She was dressed in a simple, but clean red cloak over green peasant garb. A basket of apples hung from one arm.

“Oh, just being silly,” Irina said finally, offering the woman a weak smile.

“Well, silliness is the curse of youth,” the old woman agreed. She offered Irina a smile. “Perhaps an apple might cheer you up?”

Irina smiled, her gaze moving to the basket of bright red apples. “Are those from a fey garden?”

The old woman nodded. “Indeed. Impossible to grow apples properly in this blasted cold, but the eternal warmth of the Seelie gardens does wonderful things for fruit. I am fortunate enough to be on very good terms with the Queen of Light and Illusion and she gifts me with three baskets every year.” The old woman bowed her head in respect as she said the name of the sidhe queen. “I am blessed to have such a kind benefactress. The money I make from these apples during the winter puts clothes on my back.”

Irina’s stomach rumbled and she flushed with embarrassment. She tore her longing gaze from the basket of fruit, ashamed of herself for making such a spectacle.

“It seems you could do with an apple,” the old woman mused.

“Oh, not today, I’m afraid,” Irina said apologetically. She gestured down at her clothes. “I left in a bit of a hurry and I didn’t bring any money.”

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, the old woman reached into her basket and plucked the most beautiful apple from the bunch. She extended it to Irina. “You will take this, from one stranger to another.” She held up a hand when Irina moved to protest. “Not a word. I’m too old not to have heard all the legends. For all I know, you’re Baba Yaga in disguise, testing my generosity.” She winked at Irina. “You wouldn’t strain an old woman’s heart by refusing to let me do my honorable duty in the eyes of the forest spirits, would you?”

Warmth blossomed in Irina’s chest as she took the apple. She had to blink away tears. It was as if the gods had offered her a sign in her moment of need. There was kindness to be had in this world, even if it wasn’t to be found in the heart of the vampire who had captured her thoughts.

The old woman gave one final nod and proceeded on her way, her shuffling gate speaking of her old age. Irina watched her go, saying a small blessing on the woman’s behalf. The world needed more strangers like her.

With that, she sank her teeth into the juicy flesh of the apple. The flavor burst on her tongue and she relished every moment of that first bite. She almost didn’t notice the slight aftertaste, or the way her head seemed to spin ever so slightly. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t until she was lying on the ground, staring up into the winter sky, that she realized it tasted unlike any apple she’d ever had…she couldn’t move.

A face appeared over her and Irina’s heart seized in her chest. Serafina stared down at her, sharp gaze analyzing Irina’s face.

“Irina, are you quite well?”

Irina tried to speak, but only tiny garbled sounds would pass her lips. Serafina nodded in apparent satisfaction and disappeared. The next thing Irina knew, she was being hauled onto a horse’s back. Serafina climbed up after her and pulled and heaved at Irina’s body until she was sitting in front of her stepmother, her cloak wrapped around her.

“I should have known it would come to this, Irina,” Serafina sighed. “From the time your mother pricked her finger with that cursed needle, I knew that you would be special. That speck of her blood called to me, coaxed me to kill her and take her place as your father’s bride, and for the longest time, I didn’t know why.”

She clicked her tongue and the horse lurched into movement. Irina fought to move, but her body stubbornly refused to obey. To make things worse, it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

“Did you know that at first, I thought I was meant to raise you as my own?” Serafina snorted and shook her head. “What a fool I was. To think the gods wanted me to raise someone as hopelessly naïve as you. And nothing I could do would override your absurd father’s influence—and don’t think I didn’t try!”

She urged the horse to a faster pace and Irina thought she could feel Serafina shaking her head. Fear frosted every nerve in her body as the sickening feeling in her stomach grew. She could feel the bite of apple lodged in her throat, held there like a lump of dread.

“Well, I’m done. I don’t care why you’re special anymore, it can’t be worth more to me than the plans I’ve already set in motion. I’m certainly not going to stand by and watch you leap into Kirill’s bed, not when I’ve worked so hard for so long to convince that bloodsucker he needs me. Make no mistake, Kirill will find the key to the prophecy and when he does, I will be there to share that power with him.”

By the time they arrived at Serafina’s castle, Irina’s eyes were half-closed and no matter how hard she tried and prayed, she could not force them open. Not even when terror tried to tear a scream from her throat as Serafina dragged her into her study toward the trapdoor that housed the glass coffin.

“Oh, will you
stop,
I can practically feel you sniveling. Be grateful I didn’t just kill you outright.” She hauled Irina’s body up, roughly positioning her inside the coffin. “Now you will stay here and you will sleep until I’ve a mind to deal with you.”

Darkness closed over her and in her mindlessly petrified state, Irina couldn’t tell if it was the trapdoor closing or her eyelids.