From the Ashes (Force of Nature Book 1) (12 page)

I was still trying to piece everything together myself—especially what had just taken place.

I couldn't understand why my mind had taken such a sharp dive into depression. It was as if, for the first time ever, I’d considered that there was an out—a way to escape my existence of perceived weakness. Though the king's words had been harsh, they were in fact true. The supernatural world wasn't for the faint of heart. The helpless. I did have a choice to make. Maybe the one I'd just made had been ill advised, but I could make a different one now.

It was time I stopped being fodder for others. It was time that I found a way to embrace what I was and inherit the powers that were my birthright.

... As soon as I figured out how.

* * *

For the next few days, I spent just about every waking moment I could outside, doing all I could to try and re-create the connection I'd had with the source of my power when I’d healed. To put it kindly, I failed miserably. It had been a shot in the dark and I knew it, but I’d still hoped that perhaps something would just happen. That maybe because I was actively seeking it this time, it would let me find it.

But all I got for my efforts was a sunburn.

Frustrated, I took a break, hoping that if I let myself relax, I could approach the whole thing again with a new take on it; let the magic come to me. That seemed to be how it had worked before. Maybe it would again if I just let it in.

It was worth a shot.

My efforts, however, got waylaid when I got the most distressing news. The king had called for a soirée at his home. And there was no declining that kind of event; not if you were me.

Like it or not, I prepared myself for the inevitable.

7

Vampires loved to have parties, or balls, as they insisted upon calling them. They were formal affairs, complete with gowns and tuxes and all the finery one might come to think of when the term “ball” is used. I hated them with a passion, and they couldn't stop finding reasons to have them—even when the treaty was in jeopardy.

When I learned that the vampire king himself was throwing one, I cringed, knowing I couldn't wriggle out of that one. Not showing would be a clear slap in the face, and that was an affront that few, if any, would survive. I most certainly would not, especially after everything that had happened. So I swallowed back my resentment at being made to go and started searching for a dress. I had a closet full of them, but you never wore an outfit twice to an event like that.

It was social suicide.

While I scrolled through sites containing the season's hottest looks, straight off the runways in Paris, someone knocked on my bedroom door.

“Come in!”

“Hey, Piper. It's me,” Jase called out as he strolled across the large room. “I just wanted to make sure you got word of the king's shindig this weekend.”

“Yep. Shopping for it now.”

He looked over my shoulder at the screen, pointing to a stunning black gown. It was form-fitted and sleek, without any embellishments at all, save the cutout in the side that spanned from hip to breast.

“That one has you written all over it,” he said with a smile.

I cringed internally, rolling back over onto my stomach.

“I was thinking of something more like this,” I replied, pointing to sapphire-blue dress that was equally simple-but-stunning, and was conveniently without gaping holes that would expose my scars. Jase shrugged, disappointed that I didn't jump at the chance to purchase his choice. If he'd known what I'd have shown off if I did, he would have been far more understanding.

“Whichever. Just be sure you let Mia know so she can reach the designer. If we need to send the jet for it, she'll have to make arrangements ASAP.”

“Yeah. I'll talk to her about it before I go to bed for the night.”

“You're not coming out again?”

“Sorry. I'm still just not up for it.”

He forced a smile, trying to wrap his head around something he couldn't possibly.

“Okay, but expect an early morning wake up call, then,” he warned, ruffling my hair. “Dean will probably want a drunken cuddle before he heads to bed.”

“Deal.”

“And don't forget to talk to Mia.”

“Going now.”

“Good. Talk to you later, Piper.”

“Later, Jase.”

* * *

Walking into a party full of vampires was like walking backstage at New York Fashion Week. There were perfect faces and bodies as far as the eye could see. I, however, wasn't one of them, a fact that the females in attendance loved to point out every chance they got. It was like a supernatural
Mean Girls
. I usually did my best to find a corner to hole up in and watch the clock as it slowly ticked away. Sometimes Jase and Dean would take turns saving me from the bitchy firing squad, but even they could only handle them for so long.

The king's party was every bit as opulent as all the others I'd been to that year, but as always, his was sprinkled with an extra dose of grandeur. The old ones seemed to like things to smack of an era long gone, a nod to the aristocratic feel that the 1700s had boasted. Personally, I was never impressed by it. It felt like having a party in a museum; everything was old, priceless, and not to be touched.

When we arrived, the butler showed us in. Jase and Dean made their way toward a group of stunning females on the far side of the room, and I quickly found a servant with a tray of champagne flutes and hijacked her, grabbing two drinks and downing the first in two rather unladylike gulps. I placed the empty back down with a sheepish smile. The young vampire had the good form not to comment, though I could see the flash of judgment in her eyes.

With the second glass in hand, I searched the room for a safe place to hang out, making my way to the edge of the crowd so I could navigate around it rather than through. As I did, I caught a glimpse of the king far off on the other side of the vast room. He was talking to Merc. My hand tightened around the stem of my glass instantly. I stood there staring silently, wondering why the two were having what appeared to be a very private conversation while surrounded by the other guests.

I hoped I hadn't gotten him into trouble with the king.

Now watching intently, I tried to read the expression of the vampires' leader. I needed to know his mood. But even I knew that he was a master of emotional control. He was more than capable of explaining in great detail how he was going to kill you, all while smiling politely. I doubted that Merc was much different.

Hoping that I might be able to read his lips, I squinted hard, trying to watch the king's mouth as he spoke. When it stopped moving, I turned to Merc, thinking that surely he wouldn't dare to not respond to the king. That kind of stunt could get him sent away again. Even killed. But as I looked on, practically willing him to say something—anything—I realized that Merc would indeed continue his selective mute behavior. His mouth never moved.

“Son of a bitch,” I whispered to myself as I stared, taking a swig of my drink.

“I hardly think the king would agree,” a familiar voice said beside me. A rush of cold ran down my spine. The bitch squad had found me early. Or at least its ringleader had. “Shall I tell him your thoughts on his mother? That should make for an interesting start to the evening, don't you agree, Katrina?”

I turned to find myself nose-to-nose with the two people I loathed most. Sylvia and Katrina were daughters of the vampire elite. Blood-sucking socialites. They were also the bane of my existence at these soirées.

“I do, Sylvia. Let's go,” she said, taking her friend's pale hand in her own.

“He doesn't like to be interrupted,” I warned, trying to maintain some modicum of control over my rising fear.

“You think?” Sylvia countered, quirking a pale blonde eyebrow at me. Her elvish features were lovely, her piercing, nearly-too-big eyes almost impossible to ignore. But no matter how beautiful her exterior, all I saw when I looked at her was the foulness that existed within that exquisite shell. Nothing was uglier to my eyes.

“Listen,” I started, doing my best to defuse the situation. “I wasn't talking about the king.”

“Were you talking about Merc, then? I highly doubt he'd take your sentiments any better.”

I shrugged, then slammed what remained of drink number two. With a quick turn, I started off in search of more alcohol.

“Running away won't save you,” Sylvia called after me. “And as memory serves, it didn't do much for you last time.” Katrina let out a laugh to punctuate her friend's sentiment. I, however, stopped dead in my tracks. “Did you even run at all?” she asked, her breath suddenly hot on the back of my neck. “From what I was told, you didn't make it more than two steps before the warlocks brought you down.”
How could she know,
I thought, my mind reeling so hard that it almost rendered me dizzy. “You don't belong here, you know that?” she continued, her words barely a whisper. “Vampires are predators. And you? You, my dear Piper, are prey. Nothing more.” I remained where I stood, breathing deeply, trying to control my rage as I fought back angry tears. “Did you wish for death when they burned you, I wonder? Did you wish to die and rid the planet of your useless life?”

I felt the first tear betray me as it slid down my cheek. Then I looked across the room to see Merc staring at me. His expression was tight. Nostrils flared.

Sylvia followed my gaze across the room and laughed to herself.

“Do you know why the king has thrown this extravagant party, Piper? No, I don't think you do. Allow me to enlighten you. Merc is to pick a mate tonight. The king demands it. And so he is to pick from the eligible females here, the operative word being
eligible
. You hardly qualify, so perhaps you should run along then, hmm? Maybe do what you couldn't when the warlocks attacked you in the park, and run far, far away. And this time, don't stop until the stench of your burning flesh is far downwind of us so I never have to smell that vile combination of fear and surrender again.”

I blinked hard, trying to shut out the sound of her voice, but it was no use. Her words echoed in my mind far too loudly. When I opened my eyes, I started to walk away from her, but her torment wasn't over. She had one last bomb to drop.

“Vampires loathe imperfection, Piper. It's in our nature to seek the most perfect specimen to mate with, and you and I both know that you don't qualify. You never really did, but now? Now you are ruined beyond measure.”

By this point, we had drawn the attention of the rest of the party attendees. Their perfect eyes were staring at me down their perfect noses. My stomach turned beneath my marred skin. She was right; I would never blend in with their kind. It was utterly impossible. There was no longer a point in trying.

With that revelation fueling my rage, I ripped my dress up over my head as a clap of thunder shook the house. Standing before the gawking crowd in nothing more than my bra and underwear, I flaunted my imperfections for all to see.

“You think I give a shit about being like you?” I shouted, no longer caring about being invisible. That ship had long sailed. “I'd rather have burned to death in that park than be like you. You're an empty, soulless sack of shit, and there's no amount of beauty or perfection that can make up for that.” I threw my dress at her, quickly followed by my stiletto heels. “You think you have something over me, something you can leverage against me? Well guess what, bitch? You haven't got shit. Here's your trump,” I screamed, pointing to the massive scarring that disfigured my body. “And I just played it for you.”

I turned on my bare feet and stormed through the crowd in my skivvies, headed for the grand French doors at the back of the room. I had to get outside. I'd find sanctuary in the surging storm, if I could just get out there.

If I could just escape.

Then I was running. Crashing into everyone in my path, I finally reached the doors, throwing them open to a flash of lightning that nearly blinded me. It was so close that I could feel the prickle of its residual energy. Though the punishing winds pushed me back into the room, I darted out toward the lightning's pulse.

Rain beat against my bare skin, pummeling me. The sting felt good—more than good. It felt right. It was what I deserved. With arms outstretched, I lifted my face to the sky, the movement accentuated by another thunderous boom that shook the very ground I stood on.

I awaited the lightning strike with an open embrace.

But it never came.

Instead, I felt a grip like steel clamp down on my biceps, forcing me to turn around. I found Merc's harsh beauty staring me down in the middle of the thunderstorm. His eyes drifted to my stomach for a moment before returning to my face. There was no pity in his stare.

“I did not come here tonight because it was demanded of me,” he shouted over the gusting wind. “...because I am required to choose a mate.”

“Then why are you here, Merc? And why are you standing out here in the rain with me? Did you just need to get a closer look? Did you want to see just how ruined I am?” I yelled, my misdirected anger flowing from me in waves.