The Shadow King (6 page)

He read the universe in her gaze. Her frightened gaze.

Her brave gaze.

Without realizing he was doing so, he smiled at that thought. He’d never, in his long, long years, sensed a will quite like hers. Not even in….

Keeran frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose. The world moved around him in a flash, and he jerked his head up to find that he’d transported across the room and was standing in front of the massive marble fireplace that took up one entire wall. On its mantle rested a large painting. He’d covered it up with a black velvet drape long ago.

He hadn’t meant to transport like that, trailing wisps of black shadow behind him as he vanished and reappeared somewhere else. It was something he sometimes did without realizing – when he was lost in himself.

Choosing not to fight it this time, he pulled the cover off the painting. It slid away and pooled at his feet. The image was expertly rendered and exquisitely detailed, depicting a woman with a shy smile and a demure composition. She wore a coy expression, as if she’d just been trapped in a painting by her lover the morning after spending the night with him. Her hair, while beautiful and shimmering, was loose around her shoulders, and her blouse was untied at the neck.

He’d painted it himself long, long ago from the images in his mind. Shortly after, he’d decided he no longer wanted to look at it.

The woman in the painting was a radiant being, small and perfect. And it was her eyes Keeran peered into now. Those eyes… yes, they
were
so very much like Violet Kellen’s. But they were different, too.

Violet was small and perfect like the woman in the painting, and yet she bravely delved into the crevices and corners where the rest of existence feared to go. There was an inner strength there that called to Keeran. It was a missing ingredient, a vital puzzle piece.

He knew who she was now. He’d done his homework on the little warlock. He’d learned she was searching for the door to his kingdom in order to travel through it and into the Dark. And she was going into the Dark to save her sister.

As if he would let her into the Dark. But that was beside the point.

It wasn’t only her willingness to venture into such places that impressed him. It was her methods, her knowledge. It was her
darkness
.

That was why their eyes were different. That was what the woman in the painting had been lacking: Darkness.

Keeran thought of Violet’s particular darkness now, that deep and rare understanding of the hidden secrets in things, and it made him feel strange. He leaned against the fireplace and closed his eyes as a wave of something unfamiliar moved through him. It caused his blood vessels to open up and his nerve endings to tingle. He grew warm, uncomfortably so.

What is this?
he thought. But he had a inkling that he knew. He was only reluctant to believe it. Because he’d been so very certain that of the Thirteen Kings, it
couldn’t
happen to him.

“My lord?”

Keeran straightened and opened his eyes. The shiny, smooth black marble around the hearth in front of him reflected his figure, very tall and very dark. His naturally wavy hair fell just shy of his shoulders, jet-black to the point that it seemed to become one with darkness. It framed a hauntingly handsome face, as pale as a vampire’s. His eyes were just as unnatural, reminiscent of an animal’s eyes in the moonlight, mirrored and reflective. Beneath that mirrored shield, they were a deep, charcoal gray ringed in quick-silver. Even he could admit there was beauty in them. But he hadn’t seen the color in his eyes in some time.

The last thing he caught sight of in that telling reflection was the pair of elongated teeth that rested threateningly against his bottom lip.

He forced them back into place.

“What is it?” he asked without turning. His tone was low, and his pitch perfect. But it failed to hide his irritation at being interrupted just then.

“I’m sorry to bother you sir.” Of course, Keeran recognized the voice as belonging to Bones, his servant. “But you have a visitor.”

Keeran ignored his reflection and glanced at the fire itself. The flames were crackling merrily and rising high, but they were unlike normal fire. These flames were blue.

He straightened and turned to face the door. “See him in Bones. And I apologize for snapping at you.” The edges of his words were laced with an accent, though few would be able to place it. It was the accent one acquired from every dark corner of the world.

The servant in the doorway of the office smiled. His given name had been lost long ago to the annals of name history; he’d been a gentleman’s gentleman since men were capable of gentility. Keeran simply called him “Bones” because from afar, the tall, overly thin, and exceedingly pale man looked as though he were composed solely of them.

“No apology whatsoever is needed, my lord. You may snap at me any time you see fit,” Bones assured him in his calm, gentle, but crackingly old voice. He bowed low and left the room, shutting the doors quietly behind him.

Keeran knew who was there, in the waiting room on the other side and down the hall. He could feel the man’s magic. Keeran could feel
every
kind of magic that stepped into his realm. He could feel everything and anything his shadows touched. The king of the kings had come to speak with him. He even had an inkling he knew what it was about.

He pinched the bridge of his nose again and moved to his desk to peer down at the screen of his laptop just as the door opened once more, and Roman D’Angelo stepped into the room. An unseen cloud of vampire magic wafted in with him. It was indescribable; it was just the way vampires felt. They were the offspring of warlocks and Akyri, and as such, they were wrapped in a miasmic melting pot of their parental power.

Without looking up, Keeran addressed him. “D’Angelo. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Chapter Seven

But Roman didn’t answer. So, Keeran looked up from the desk.

The Vampire King was looking around the room, taking in the décor. He was clearly at ease with himself, unhurried, and curious. Keeran let him look.

The furniture in the office was black. He favored the color, and the dark leather of the plush sofas and love seats was well tended by his butler. The marble bookshelves carved into the walls were equally dark, but this oppression was contrasted by the thick white rugs interspersed throughout the room.

“I’ve never been in this room before.”

“You’ve never been in this realm before.”

Roman smiled and finally made eye contact with Keeran. “Fair enough. To put it mildly, you’re not exactly on the map.”

Keeran actually smiled at that. He closed the lid of his computer, crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned against the desk. “What can I help you with?”

Roman moved further into the room and Bones quietly left, closing the door to shut them in together. The Vampire King’s gaze fell on Keeran’s work desk and the electronics splayed across it. “I didn’t realize you could get a connection here.”

This time, Keeran actually laughed. He couldn’t help it. “You’re assuming that because the Shadow Realm is all but invisible and more than a little misunderstood, it’s also outdated.” It was a common mistake. Keeran wagered that only Thanatos, the Phantom King, lived in a realm people knew less about than his own.

Roman gave him a discomfited smile.

“But I assure you, I know what a microwave is, and what it does, and that there are no tiny men singing inside my stereo.” He frowned, then added, “Unless we’re having another outbreak of gremlin shadows, that is.”

After a moment, Roman cocked his head to one side, and the humor on his face melted away. He seemed to look
through
Keeran.

The Shadow King straightened, throwing up mental walls out of habit and self preservation.

Roman shook his head. “It won’t do you any good. I wouldn’t try to read your mind, Pitch. I know better than that and have no desire to go off the reservation just now. But I don’t need to read your mind to recognize what’s going on with you.”

Keeran’s gaze narrowed. “And just what is that?” What had the vampire come here for? Was he in the Shadow Realm to accuse Keeran of something? “Spit it out.”

Roman’s expression softened, just enough. Just enough for Keeran to recognize the concern in his dark-eyed gaze. “I know a man obsessed when I see one.”

Keeran’s brows arched high. He hadn’t been expecting that. He’d expected to be accused of being the traitor among the thirteen kings. Hell, he was mysterious enough. Certainly a tad anti-social. He lived in the Shadow Realm, for crying out loud. He would have understood the others jumping to such a conclusion.

Roman went on. “There’s a…
vibration
in here,” he said, gesturing with his hands as if it would help him explain as he began to pace slowly toward the fire place. “It would be impossible to describe other than to say it’s quietly brutal and unforgiving. I recognize it because I’ve felt it before.” He stopped by the hearth and glanced back at Keeran as he slid his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. “From the inside.”

As usual, the Vampire King was impeccably dressed, this time in a three piece suit tailored in light gray. “I feel it every single night as it builds and builds until I can finally sink my teeth into my wife’s throat… and drink her nearly dry.” He waited a beat, perhaps for emphasis, then continued. “She makes me crazy, Pitch. Love will do that to men like us. The queen is the king’s obsession.” He turned to face Keeran fully, and leveled a hard black gaze on him. “So I know what it looks like when another man is riding the same one-way train.”

Keeran stared back unwaveringly. Time ticked loudly somewhere. The blue flame fireplace crackled.

And in his mind’s eye, he saw Violet Kellen in a sea of dark, her eyes shimmering like troubled waters. Obsession was perhaps a good word for it. He’d figured out who she was within short hours of meeting her. He’d even sent Bones into her world with a gift.

“Who is she?” Roman finally asked, breaking the silence. When Keeran didn’t respond, Roman smiled. “You’ve found your queen.”

And there it was. Someone other than him finally giving the realization voice. There was no denying it now. He’d known it the moment he’d seen and felt her down there in the Seattle Underground. The moment he’d caught her unbelievable scent. She was rare and perfect, glowing in a sea of deeper darkness, like an acorn of hope in a forest of gloom.

He didn’t need to confirm it. He didn’t need to say anything at all. His continued silence was enough to turn Roman’s smile into a shit-eating grin.

“You didn’t come here to talk about my love life, D’Angelo,” Keeran finally said calmly. He uncrossed his arms and strode across the large study to a liquor cabinet against the wall. There, he pulled a decanter of crystal from the bottom shelf and poured its dark contents into a short glass. The liquor was black in color, resembling water that had been dyed.

“Well, firstly, allow me to congratulate you. And secondly no, I didn’t,” Roman admitted. Keeran could hear that he was closer now, no doubt trying to get a look at what Keeran was drinking.

“What
is
that?” the Vampire King asked, right on schedule.

“Tenebris,” Keeran put the crystal bottle away and re-closed the cabinet door, turning to face his guest. “I would offer you a glass, but it would kill you.”

Roman looked him right in the eyes, and Keeran could tell he was trying to figure out whether or not the Shadow King was joking. He wasn’t.

“You came to accuse me of being the traitor, didn’t you?” Keeran asked point-blank.

Roman’s expression gave the slightest hint that Keeran had hit the nail on the head .

But there was something in the vampire’s eyes that spoke of both disbelief and relief as well. “Personally, you were not the first one to pop into my head when the news was revealed that there was a turncoat among us,” Roman said, proving that he could read a man’s mind without having to actually read it after all. “You rarely change your colors.”

Keeran smiled. D’Angelo was certainly right about that. Keeran’s colors were all shades of black, and with what he was and always would be, that was probably never going to change.

“But I admit to being relieved that I can now cross you off the list for good.”

He’s referring to Violet
, Keeran thought with a deep, unusual thrill. Previous spells cast to gather information on the traitor had revealed very little – other than the single exceedingly vital detail that whoever the traitor was, he didn’t have a queen.

Roman took a deep breath and changed the subject. “Speaking of dark things, I was wondering how much you might know about dark matter.”

Everything
, Keeran thought. The reply came quick into his mind, strong and clear. He knew everything about dark matter. It was all around the mortal race, yet went undetected by them for the most part. What humans did surmise was that there was something in the dark spaces of the night sky that had too much mass to be nothing. That darkness filled ninety percent of the universe, but shed no light. Theorists guessed at what it could possibly be: space dust, planets that had no suns so we couldn’t see them, an element that they didn’t yet know about, or even billions of tiny black holes.