Broken (5 page)

The fact that she had been eight and forced to do such a thing was something that he didn't know how to comprehend. Even if she'd lost her hand because she'd been caught by the humans, she would have healed with remarkable quickness. She most likely would have been put down by the vampire race afterward for putting their way of life at risk by possibly exposing them.

"That wouldn't have been good," he agreed.

"She often watched Camille for me too, while I was working the crowd, so to speak," she said with a mischievous smile. "We left the Easton village before I turned nine. I ran across Matilda again when we relocated to this area six months ago. She had moved here five years ago to sell her cloth and I think she may have also encountered some trouble with the law."

"Why are you giving her money now?"

"She may be a human but she's a good woman; she helped to keep Camille and I alive back then. She's getting older now and I like to give her whatever help I can."

He stopped walking and tugged on her hand when she took a few steps forward without realizing that he wasn't beside her anymore. Her eyebrows raised questioningly as he stood and stared at her. He knew men that had enough money to buy a palace or even a small country and
never
would they have willingly given that money away in order to help someone that wasn't their family. Most of them wouldn't even help their own family.

"What is wrong?" she inquired.

He shook his head but he couldn't tear his gaze away from her. "Nothing is wrong."

"Why are you looking at me like that then?"

"What am I looking at you like?"

"Like you have no idea who I am," she smiled at him but he sensed the uncertainty behind it.

"I
don't
have any idea who you are; I've never met anyone like you." Her head tilted to the side as she stared at him. "I think I might scandalize the humans again."

She laughed but it faded away when he pulled her closer, clasped hold of the back of her head and kissed her like she was the last woman on earth. When he'd kissed her before it was because he'd been curious to know what she would feel like, but now he kissed her because he could
not
stop himself. He kissed her now because he had to taste her, to touch her, and feel her against him. He kissed her because he needed this woman in a way that he had never needed anyone else before.

Offended gasps sounded around them, but he completely ignored them as he tilted her head further to the side and kissed her until her knees buckled and his arm around her waist was the only thing holding her up.

Atticus shrugged out of his heavy, wet cloak and handed it to a passing servant. The man bowed his head before hurrying away. An unsettling feeling rattled in the pit of his stomach as he looked around the massive entranceway of the manor. Sunlight filtered in through the holes cut into the walls up above, revealing the rushes covering the floor and the golden chair set up on the dais across the way. A large table with twenty chairs surrounding it was set up in the middle of the room. Perhaps, if this had been a human home, the table would have been used often; this one was rarely sat at though and was mostly for show. It wasn't something he'd ever thought about before but this empty table seemed like such a waste to him after having just left Genny behind.

His family's coat of arms, a dragon encircling a golden cross with a wolf at the bottom of the cross hung on the wall above his father's chair on the dais. The house of Valdhai, the house of vampires that he belonged to, was written in red across the bottom of the shield. For the first time he realized the amount of money that was in this one room alone, and this manor was the smallest of his father's numerous properties.

He strode across the room and up the set of stairs on the right hand side of the building. He was almost to the top when his father's voice halted him. "Where have you been?"

Stopping in the middle of the stairs, he looked up to where the formidable man stood in the hall above him. They got along well enough, but then they mostly just avoided each other until it became necessary that they did speak. He glanced down at his muddied boots and gestured at his wet clothing.

"Riding."

"We must talk."

"Can't it wait?" he inquired.

"No."

Atticus reluctantly finished climbing the stairs to join his father. He'd been an inch taller than the man since he was in his teens, but recently he'd also become broader and more developed through the shoulders and chest. Though he was taller and larger, his father's age meant that he was still more powerful than he was. Over time even that would change as the power of the pure vampire blood flowing through his veins developed further.

His father turned away when he stepped off the last stair and led the way down the hall. Atticus studied the back of his father's head as he followed him. His light brown hair curled at the edge of his shoulders and was longer than he normally wore it. A servant standing beside his father's private solar opened the door for him and then stepped aside. Atticus nodded to the man before entering the room and the servant closed the door behind him.

He wasn't surprised to see his Uncle Nyles and Merle already in the room. Merle's expression was one of boredom, he had his arm draped over the back of the chair and his legs sprawled out before him. Atticus tried to cling to the pleasant memory of the day he'd spent with Genny but he had a feeling not even the memory of that last kiss would get him through whatever it was that his father and uncle planned to discuss.

He slid into the chair next to the ornately carved one at the head of the table. His father was not a king but his marriage to Atticus's mother and the recent king's death, had made him one of the most powerful vampires in the world. His father's family was third in the bloodline, but at four hundred and ten he was now one of the oldest in existence. He liked to remind others of this fact by creating throne inspired chairs that were only slightly smaller than the king's actual throne would have been.

Atticus folded his hands on the table and leaned forward while his father settled into his chair. His sable brown eyes were intent as he focused briefly on Atticus before turning his attention to a serving woman in the corner. He waved her forward. She brought forth four goblets and a tankard of wine that she placed in front of his father. Atticus barely glanced at the bite marks on her wrist and neck while she poured the wine.

The marks in her flesh pricked his appetite but they also caused a strange sensation of aversion to twist through his stomach as the potent scents of sex and blood drifted off the woman's skin. Her scent was far different, and far less appealing, than the clean aroma of asters and rain still clinging to his skin from his time with Genny. He adjusted his position so that he was further away from her as she placed his wine before him.

The serving women that stayed with them, and supplied them with blood in exchange for a place to live and high wages, had never bothered him before. They were born into this role; their families had been attending vampires longer than any of the human servants had been alive. They were bred to keep their secrets and see to a vampire's needs, no matter what those needs might be.

All he wanted was to get even further away from her though as she leaned over him. Her ample cleavage was almost on full display in her low cut dress. The smile that had been on her face fell away when his upper lip curled into a sneer. Merle chuckled as she recoiled and hurried away to place Merle's glass before him.

"I don't think he likes you dear," he said and patted her on the rear.

She smiled at him but her gaze fell nervously back on Atticus. "Leave us," his father commanded crisply.

The woman scurried out the door like a kicked dog. "There has been a decision made about the king," his father said.

"Oh and who is the newest sacrificial lamb?" Atticus inquired sardonically and took a sip of the sweet, red wine.

His father's eyes focused on him and for a split second Atticus had the unsettling notion that it was going to be
him
. He was too young, even with his bloodline there was no way that all of the aristocrats would have agreed to appoint him to such a position, not yet anyway. His father's eyes narrowed over the bridge of his hawk-like nose. His was the face of an aristocrat with its sharp angles and high cheekbones. Atticus saw very little of himself in his father's face; he had taken after his mother with his hair coloring and eyes, even his facial structure had been more similar to his mother's softer bone structure than his father's.

Across the way, his uncle shifted in his seat, drawing Atticus's eyes to him. Even though five years separated them, his uncle and father looked enough alike that they could be mistaken for twins. His uncle's mouth was fuller than his father's, his eyes were hazel instead of brown, but there was no mistaking the family resemblance between them. Merle's coloring was more like his mother's with his blond hair and dark blue eyes, but his features were very much his father's.

"There will no longer be a king."

Atticus almost choked on his wine at his father's words. Merle's feet dropped onto the ground, his pretense at indifference vanished as he sat straight up in his chair. His eyes were questioning as they shot to Atticus but he didn't speak. "Who will lead us then?" Atticus inquired.

"We will be forming a council. The Council will govern over the vampires, laydown the laws, and make sure that they are carried out."

"Who will be on The Council?" Merle asked.

"The eldest of each of the noble bloodlines will make up the sitting Council." He knew it wouldn't matter if the eldest were male or female. Women had more restrictions placed on them than the men in their world, but nowhere near as many as the human women had placed on them. Vampire women were required to be faithful in a marriage until an heir was produced, but other than that they were considered equals and allowed the same freedoms. Sex didn't matter to vampires; the thing that mattered most amongst them was age. With age came power and that power would be key to any member of The Council. "It is time to put an end to the fighting before we all destroy each other.
No
one is willing to be king at this time," his father continued.

Atticus didn't blame any of the aristocrats for being unwilling to step up as he took another sip of his wine; he sure wouldn't want the position. The king had to look over his shoulder at all times, had to worry that
every
one was out to get him. And if history was any indication, everyone
was
out to get them. That was no way to live.

"How many members will that be in total then?" Merle inquired.

"Fifty."

"And everyone on The Council will get an equal say?" Atticus inquired.

"Yes."

"That should solve everyone's problems then," he murmured.

"The Council meetings will take place four times a year. The first one will take place in London." That unsettling feeling was starting to fill the pit of his stomach again. "We leave tomorrow at daybreak."

There it was, what he'd been dreading all along. "Well I hope you have a good trip." He knew full well that it wouldn't be that easy, but he was hoping that somehow he would be able to avoid this trip. Even Merle gave him a look that clearly stated,
good try but that is never going to happen
, as a snort of laughter escaped him.

"You will be coming with us," his father stated flatly, not at all amused by his attempt to avoid going. "You're no longer going to be allowed to shirk your responsibilities. I've allowed you too much freedom these past few years but it's time to step up now and take responsibility."

His jaw clenched as resentment slid sinuously through him. Thoughts of Genny flooded his mind; his hands fisted, he had to fight the urge to smash them onto the table and refuse to go. There was no choice in this matter though, there never had been, not for him. He'd been born into this life and though he'd had the luxury of wealth and privilege, he'd never had any freedom to make his own choices.

"How long?" he grated through clenched teeth.

"A week, two at most," his father replied casually.

Atticus almost jumped up from his chair; his hands remained clenched in his lap as he forced himself to remain calm. He was supposed to accept this. If it had been just days ago he still wouldn't have liked the idea of going, but he also wouldn't have felt like bashing the table to pieces with his bare hands. As he forced his hands to unclench all he could think about, all he could remember was the smell of asters clinging to Genny's skin.

What was wrong with him? He'd known the woman for two days but he couldn't shake her from his system. Maybe the best thing that could happen was to get away from her for a couple of weeks, get his head together. Even as he thought it, he had to fight the urge to go back into the woods to find her. To tell her he was leaving but he would be coming back. But she wouldn't be in the woods right now and to hunt her down at her house could only frighten her away. He wasn't sure he would blame her if it did. Besides he wasn't about to start chasing after a woman he barely knew; he would see her when he returned.

He forced himself to his feet. "I must go pack then."

Turning on his heel, he left the room before his father could say anything more.

***

The servant dropped his trunk into the corner of the room before hurrying out. Atticus walked over to the window slit to stare at the meadow of grass blowing in the wind. They were at his Uncle Thaddeus's manor on the outskirts of London but his mind was still on his father's home to the south.

"I think we should take this as our chance to escape." He glanced over his shoulder at Merle before looking back out the window again. At any other time he would have taken the first chance he got to get away from his father and uncle. Now all he wanted was to escape his own skin, it felt as if it wasn't even his anymore. He had no idea what was wrong with him but it had to stop before he tore the flesh from his body.

"Atticus?"

"Yes, let's," he murmured. Maybe getting out into the world that he knew so well, and had always belonged in, would help him to shake the strange sensations growing within him.

He turned away from the window, grabbed his cloak from where he had tossed it on the bed and followed Merle from the room. They retrieved their horses from the stable and rode the three miles into the crowded London thoroughfares. They kept to the side streets, avoiding the main roads in favor of the seedier areas of town that vampires often frequented.

Merle stopped outside of a gaming hall they'd both been to multiple times a couple of years ago. He handed his reins over to the vampire stable boy that had been lurking in the shadows and followed Merle down a set of stairs to the door tucked below. If a human had passed by the hall they never would have noticed it there, and if they did notice it they would never make it inside. If they somehow did manage to get in, they wouldn't survive to tell the tale. It was easy for people to go missing in this area of the city and never have their whereabouts questioned.

At the bottom of the stairs, Merle knocked three times before pausing and knocking twice more on the door. A small window at the top pulled back, a pair of beady brown eyes peered out at them before the window slammed shut. Metal screeched against metal as the bolts in the door were slid open and a dwarf vampire opened the door to give them entrance. The beady black-eyed guard that had opened the window stood behind the dwarf. His face had been twisted into a permanent scowl by a vicious looking scar that ran from the center of his forehead, down the bridge of his nose, lips and chin. Whatever had happened to the man had been bad enough that the scar still hadn't faded away.

"Welcome milords," the vampire dwarf greeted and bowed to them as beady eyes closed and locked the door again. "It's our pleasure to have you here tonight. I'm sure you will be able to find anything you require within, but if there is anything
special
," he said the word in a tone that made Atticus curious about what more could be offered that wasn't already here. He didn't want to find out as he knew there were things within these walls that he'd never tried before, and had no intention of trying. "You need only let me know and I will procure it for you."