Six Scorched Roses (Crowns of Nyaxia, #1.5)(11)

I knew only a little about vampire anatomy. It was difficult to study them when they were so reclusive. And when so many of the humans who went to Obitraes never returned.

“Turning is dangerous, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Yes. The majority die during the process.”

“But if someone survives it and becomes a vampire, they’re considered… undesirable?”

“Part human. Part vampire. Their blood will always hold the taint of humanity.” His nose wrinkled. “Less pure.”

“But if they survived such a dangerous thing, doesn’t that make them the strongest among you?”

Vale opened his mouth as if to argue with this, then shut it. He looked conflicted, like he’d never thought of it that way.

“It’s just not how it is,” he said, at last.

The first vial was full. I switched to the next.

“Why did you leave Obitraes?” I asked.

“And I thought you were nosy last time.”

“Most humans never get to speak to a vampire. I should take advantage of it, shouldn’t I?”

“Aren’t you so very lucky.”

A few seconds passed. I thought he didn’t want to answer, but then he said, “I wanted a change.”

“Why?”

“Why not? Have you always lived in that little town?”

“I studied in Baszia.”

He scoffed. “A whole ten miles away from home. How exotic.”

I did despise that he was so judgmental, and I despised even more that his sneers prodded at a selfish little wound I tried to ignore. I would never get to see the world—but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to.

“Not all of us have the resources to travel,” I said.

“Humans and your money.”

“I didn’t say money. I said resources.”

He glanced at me in confusion. I gave him a grim smile.

“Time, Vale,” I said. “Time is the most valuable resource of all, and some of us are perpetually short.”





CHAPTER SEVEN





Vale led me back downstairs when I finished collecting the blood. As I did every time, I found myself slowing down every hall, unable to look away from each antique and piece of art. I couldn’t stop myself from craning my neck as we passed the wings again, my steps slowing without my permission.

“You like them?”

Vale sounded amused.

“They’re… remarkable.”

“More remarkable on my wall than they were on the man who bore them.”

It was a horrible thing to say. A reminder of vampire brutality. And yet… I was intrigued more than appalled.

“And who was that, exactly?”

“A Hiaj general who was said to be very talented.”

The words very talented dripped with sarcasm.

“Hiaj,” I repeated. “That’s one of the two clans of the House of Night?”

My gaze traveled to the painting beside the wings—depicting a man with feathered white wings driving a spear through the chest of another with slate-grey bat wings.

“You… know more of Obitraes than I’d expect of a human.”

“I like knowing things.”

“I can see that. Yes. Hiaj.” He tapped his finger to the bat-winged man. “And Rishan.” He tapped the feather-winged man.

Rishan. I formed the word silently, rolling my tongue over it.

“You must be Rishan, I assume. Going by your taste in decor.”

“You assume right.”

“So you have wings.”

I said it before I could stop myself. Feathered wings. What would they look like? Would they be dark, like his hair?

“You’re an especially nosy mouse today.”

I blinked to see Vale staring at me, amused.

“I’m always nosy,” I said. “You don’t know me very well yet.”

Yet. As if we would form some kind of friendship through this little bargain of mine. A ridiculous thought. Still… when he laughed a little and grinned—reluctantly, like he didn’t mean to—I could imagine it could happen.

“Maybe you’ll get to see them one day,” he said, “if you’re very fortunate.”

And I could imagine, too, that I would indeed be very fortunate if I got to see Vale’s wings.

“Who is in power now?” I said. “Back home?”

“Home?”

He said the word slowly, like it was foreign.

It didn’t occur to me that Vale might not think of the House of Night as his home. But then again, would one consider a place their home when they hadn’t been there for hundreds of years?

“The House of Night,” I said. “The Rishan and the Hiaj are always fighting, aren’t they? Struggling for power.”

“You know too much of my country’s dirty laundry.”

“I had a colleague once who studied anthropology, with a specialization in vampire culture.”

Vale laughed. “A dangerous field.”

Dangerous, indeed. He had gone to Obitraes and never came back. He was a nice man. I liked to think that perhaps someone Turned him and he was still living some life over there—even though I knew it was more likely that he just became somebody’s meal.