Unravelled. Gena ShowalterЧитать онлайн книгу.
realized. No, Victoria was shaking.
A soft, warm hand pressed against his—her—shoulder. She looked up, vision blurry from her tears. Moonlight glowed in the sky, he saw, and stars twinkled. A few night birds even flew overhead, calling to each other in…fear? Probably. They had to sense the danger below them.
Victoria lowered her gaze, and Aden studied the vampires surrounding her. Each was tall, pale, striking. Alive. Most were not the monsters storybooks painted them to be. They were simply detached, humans a food source they couldn’t afford to care about.
Vampires lived for centuries, after all, while humans withered and died. Exactly as Aden was soon to die.
Elijah had already predicted his death. The prediction sucked, yeah, but it was the method that sucked more: a sharp knife through his very necessary heart.
He’d always prayed the method would miraculously change. Until now. A knife through the heart beat burning to death inside a body that didn’t belong to him any day of the week. And when the hell was he going to catch a break, huh? No torture, no fighting creatures, no waiting around for the end, just flunking tests and kissing his girlfriend.
Aden forced himself to concentrate before he worked himself into a rage he couldn’t hope to assuage. The vampire mansion rose behind the crowd, shadowed and eerie, like a haunted house melded with a Roman cathedral. Victoria had told him the house had been here, in Oklahoma, for hundreds of years, and her people had “borrowed” it from its owner when they first arrived. He’d taken that to mean the former owner had supplied the vampires with a nice lunch buffet—of his organs.
“He was powerful, you’re right about that,” a girl who looked to be Victoria’s age said. She had hair the color of newly fallen snow, eyes like a meadow and the face of an angel. She wore a black robe that bared one pale shoulder, traditional vampire garb, but somehow she seemed…out of place. Maybe because she’d just popped a Juicy Fruit bubble.
“A great king,” another girl added, placing her hand on Victoria’s other side. Another blonde. This one had crystalline eyes like Victoria and the face of a fallen angel. Unlike the other girls, she wore a black leather half-top and black leather pants. Weapons were strapped to her waist, and barbed wire circled her wrists. And no, the wire wasn’t a tattoo. “Yes,” Victoria replied softly. Darling sisters. Sisters? He’d known Victoria had them, yeah, but he’d never met them. They’d been locked in their rooms during the Vampire Ball meant to celebrate Vlad the Impaler’s official awakening from his century-long slumber. Aden wondered if Victoria’s mother was here, too. Apparently, she’d been imprisoned in Romania for spilling vampire secrets to humans. Vlad’s orders. A real nice guy, that Vlad.
Aden was human, and he knew way more than he should. Some vampires—like Victoria—could teleport, traveling from one location to another with only a thought. And if word had already reached Romania that the vampire king was dead, mommy vamp could have arrived in Crossroads seconds later.
“He was a terrible father, though. Wasn’t he?” the first girl continued while chewing gum. The three shared a rueful half-smile. “He was indeed,” Victoria said. “Unbending, exacting. Brutal to his enemies—and sometimes to us. And yet, it’s so hard to say goodbye.”
She peered down at Vlad’s charred remains. He was the first human ever to change from human to vampire. Well, the first anyone knew about. His body was intact, though burned beyond recognition. A crown perched haphazardly atop his hairless head.
Several rings decorated his fingers, and a black velvet cloth draped his chest and legs.
His dead body still lay where Dmitri had dropped it. Was there some kind of protocol about moving a royal corpse? Or were his people still too shocked to touch him?
They’d lost him the very night they were to be reunited with him. Dmitri had burned the guy to death just before the ceremony and claimed the vampire throne as his own. Then Aden had killed him, which meant Aden was now supposed to lead the bloodsuckers. Aden, of all people, of all humans, which was honest to God craziness. He’d make a terrible king. Not that he wanted even to try.
He wanted Victoria. No more, no less.
“Despite our feelings, he’ll have a place of honor, even in death,” Victoria said. Her gaze swept past her sisters to the vampires still looming around them. “His funeral must be—”
“In a few months,” the second sister interrupted.
Victoria blinked once, twice, as if trying to jumpstart her thoughts. “Why?”
“He’s our king. He’s always been our king. More than that, he’s the strongest among us. What if he’s still alive under all that soot? We need to wait, watch him. Make sure.”
“No.” Aden felt the glide of Victoria’s hair on her shoulders as she shook her head violently. “That will merely offer everyone false hope.”
“A few months is too long a wait, yeah,” the greeneyed gum chewer said. Her name was Stephanie, if he was reading Victoria’s thoughts correctly. “But I do agree waiting a little while before burning him is smart. We’ll let everyone get used to the idea of a human king. So why don’t we compromise, huh? Let’s wait, oh, I don’t know, a month. We can keep him in the crypt below us.”
“First, the crypt is for our deceased humans. Second, even a month is too long,” Victoria gritted out. “If we must wait—” she paused until they nodded “—then let’s wait…half a month.” She’d wanted to say a day, maybe two, but had known the suggestion would be met with resistance. And this way, Aden would have time to acclimate to the idea of being king.
The other sister ran her tongue over her very sharp, very white teeth. “Very well. Agreed. We’ll wait fourteen days. And we will keep him in the crypt. He’ll be sealed inside, preventing any lingering rebels from hurting him further.”
Victoria sighed. “Yes. All right. You agreed to my stipulation, so I’ll agree to yours.”
“Wow. No one had to throw a punch to win the argument. The changing of the guard is working in our favor already.” Stephanie popped another bubble. “So, anyway, back to Daddy Dearest. He’s lucky, you know. He died here, so he gets to stay here. Had he kicked it in Romania, the rest of the family would have spit on his crypt.”
There was a beat of stunned silence before gasps of outrage flooded the congregation.
“What?” Stephanie splayed her arms, all innocence. “You know you’re thinking the same thing.”
Thank God Victoria wouldn’t be heading off to her homeland for the funeral. Aden wouldn’t have been able to travel with her since he lived at the D and M Ranch, a halfway house for “wayward” teens, aka unwanted delinquents, where his every action was monitored.
Everyone assumed he had schizophrenia because he talked to the souls trapped inside him, which had earned him a lifetime of institutions and medications. The ranch was the system’s final effort to save him, and if he blew that chance, he’d be carted away. Boom, done, goodbye. Hello, lifetime of confinement in a padded room.
He’d lose Victoria forever.
“Shut your mouth, Stephanie, before I do it for you. Vlad taught us to survive, and kept the humans unaware of us—for the most part. He made us a legend, a myth. He also taught our enemies to fear us. For that alone, he has my respect.” The blue-eyed sister—Lauren; her name was Lauren—tilted her head to the side, suddenly pensive. “Now. What are we going to do about the mortal while our fourteen-day reprieve is ticking away?”
“Victoria’s…Aden?” Stephanie’s brow wrinkled. “That’s his name, right? ”
“Haden Stone, known by his people as Aden, yes,” Victoria replied. “But I—”
“We’ll follow his rule,” a male voice said, cutting her off. “Because, and stop me if you’ve heard this one, he’s our ruler.”