What Lies Inside (A Blood Bound Novel, Book 1) (36 page)

Unable to clear the image from my memory, I threw open the thick, maroon drapes. Beyond the row of four narrow, arc-topped windows, the sky was black with night. Not a single star was visible under a cloak of heavy clouds. I glanced to the analogue clock beside the phone. It was minutes from midnight. A new vampire day had already begun. One I had slept through almost half of.

With my tutoring not commencing until tomorrow, I forced myself into the bathroom. At the foot of the door to Kendrick’s room was a block of chocolate. A post-it note was attached.
You can’t hate me forever.

Wanna bet? Chocolate had always been my weakness, my kryptonite. But I wasn’t ready to make nice. And no amount of chocolate was about to change that. I scrunched up the note and made sure his room was empty. Then I had the quickest shower ever before throwing on jeans and my favorite purple tank. Claustrophobic air was building up around me. It was an inability to breathe properly knowing Ty was so far away. I needed to do something to distract the aching that still gripped my heart. Plus I didn’t want to have to deal with Kendrick again. To escape both issues, I left my room. It was time to get acquainted with my new surroundings, my prison.

Getting lost within the Armaya’s expansive labyrinth of snaking corridors revealed many locked doors and hardly any people. Finally I stumbled across my uncle’s office. Sweat instantly dampened my palms. Talking about Ty with him again was the last thing I wanted to do. Still, avoiding the situation wouldn’t fix anything. I had to be accountable. I had to prove that I was mature enough to decide my own fate, my own future.

With a deep breath, I knocked on the door. It creaked open. Inside the lights were on but the room was vacant. Weight lifted from my chest. I turned to leave, but a glimmer caught my eye, something catching the dim lamplight. My eyes fell on the antique grandfather clock. The pendulum that swung behind the glass covering was reflecting more than just the room’s light. A rainbow danced over the silvery surface each time it passed a vertical point. I knelt and opened the glass door, exposing the pendulum. My hands scrounged below in the darkness of the solid base of the clock. Then I grazed something cold and smooth. It was a glass vial, I realized, topped with a thick, silver liquid. I tilted it back and forth, entranced as it glittered a spectrum of colors.

“Ahem,” a voice sounded from behind.

Rising I whirled, my heart suddenly hammering and the vial clutched in my hand.

Uncle Caius stood in the doorway, his expression stern and his arms crossed over his chest. “What are you doing in here?”

Just like a child being reprimanded, I peered down to the Persian rug covering the wood-planked floor. “Sorry Uncle Caius. The door was open. I…I…”

Caius stepped forward and seized my hand. “
And this?
”

With a throat-clearing gulp, I forced my eyes up and shrugged. “The light caught my eye. I was just curious.”

My uncle’s expression softened. He turned my hand and pried open my clutched fingers, removing the vial. Then he walked to his desk, placing it in the top drawer.

Following with caution, I took the seat opposite him. “The vial, what’s inside it?” And why did I feel such a strange pull toward to it? I wondered.

Caius waved a dismissive hand. “Merely an herbal remedy, though the main ingredient is quite hard to come by.” He clasped his hands in front of him. “Now, how would you like a guided tour around your new home?”

“Amelia,” the guy said with a smile. He rose from his perch on a desk centering the library to extend a welcoming hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Marcus Vladimir, your tutor.”

The library, as I had discovered yesterday during Caius’s guided tour, was more than expansive. It stretched thirty-feet high, its walls covered with unending shelves of books. Above, the ceiling was entirely made of curved glass that right now revealed a star-speckled sky.

I frowned at the guy standing before me. With glossy blond hair and not a single age-line marking his pale, angelic face, he looked barely a few years older than me. Too young for what I had expected my tutor to be. Then I remembered the name. He was Kendrick’s friend. I
huffed
at the thought of him. Another note had been left this morning along with a packet of mint biscuits—my favorites. At least there was one good thing about being a vampire. We could eat whatever we wanted without effect. Otherwise I would have wondered if he was trying to make me fat.

Marcus’s hand was still outstretched, and I was being totally rude, standing in dumb thought
.
I quickly accepted his waiting hand, which he turned, raising the back of my hand to his lips. At the same moment his teal-flecked, blue eyes froze on my face. Then something totally weird happened. A flaming bolt ignited with his touch, scorching a channel from his connecting lips into my core. Recognition kindled within me. I jerked away frowning, eyes darting to see if anyone had seen. The librarian was manning the front desk. No one else was visible past the eight-foot, freestanding stacks. We were essentially alone.

With caution I glanced back at Marcus. I was absolutely certain I had never met this guy before this very second. Yet there was something there. It was in the twinkle of his unwavering eyes and the electricity of his touch. A kindled awareness I couldn’t quite ignore. A whisper deep within that somehow our souls recognized one another.

Don’t be ridiculous.
I shook myself and forced my tongue and mouth to move. “It’s um, nice to meet you, Marcus.” My eyes shifted warily over his casual attire. He wore faded jeans and a snug-fitting, white t-shirt that clung to his toned chest. Then I looked to the stacked books and papers that cluttered the desk behind him. He didn’t look anything like a tutor.
Who are you?
I wondered, but only said, “Am I interrupting?”

Marcus shrugged with complete indifference. “Not really. I’m just studying for what will soon become my obligation.” When I remained silent, unabashedly studying his face, he continued. “My father, Lord Vladimir, is one of the seven reigning royals. He’s nearing the end of his shelf life. When he kicks it, I’ll take his position.”

Though his lack of emotion struck me, I couldn’t forget the feeling he ignited within me. My lips spoke without permission. “But you’re so young.”

A fanged smile lit his chiseled face. “Same age as you, I believe.”

“You’re sixteen!” I almost shouted.

“Just turned seventeen. Unfortunately age does not negate responsibility.” Marcus moved around the desk, taking one of two seats. He seemed totally unaffected by my lingering stare. “I’m guessing you know very little of vampire custom. So,” he said patting the seat next to him, “shall we get started?”

Over the next few hours, Marcus skimmed over an endless list of vampire-related topics. There were so many details that by the time we were done, I didn’t think my brain could hold another single piece of information. First he touched on vampire aging, which in royals began to slow at around twenty. Next was our need for blood, which increased with age while our desire for human food declined. We could still eat regular food, but its taste would be less appealing. This was not going to be good for my chocolate crutch. After that he covered the Armaya’s rules and regulations, including their reluctance to allow outsiders within their walls. Lastly was a brief mention on compulsion and its rules of use, as well as a little speech on why those rules existed.

“Let’s see,” Marcus mused, rifling through a stack of books.

My elbow rested against the desk, propping up my head as my eyes watched him. The unwavering feeling of recognition still perplexed me. How could I feel connected to him?

“Ah,” Marcus said, pulling a thick book from the stack and placing it in front of me. It was leather-bound and visibly old with a cracked spine and that strong musky scent that came with age-worn pages. “The War of the Races.”

A shiver gripped my body and my elbow slid out from under my head, connecting with the stack of books. The force sent them flying from the table and onto the ground. I scrambled to pick them up. “Races?” I croaked out, slamming the last book back onto the desk.

“Vampires and lycanthropes.” Marcus looked down at me, the teal of his eyes gleaming. “It was a distant time when the wolves existed to serve us, as our guardians and slaves. Their place was to protect royals against beings stronger and faster than us, beings we have since driven to extinction.” He leaned back in his seat and cracked his knuckles. “This story, however, does not begin in war. The actions of a single female lycan, of which there were and are very few, changed the way in which our races coexisted.”

A toxic lump had climbed up my throat and I couldn’t restrain myself from asking. “Why? What’d she do?”

Marcus regarded me with a speculative expression. “She used the lure of her potent blood to attract the affections of a royal. The royal was a young heir in line for one of the twelve thrones.”

Dead blood spiked my throat and my pulse galloped. From the start I’d felt an undeniable draw to Ty’s blood. But Marcus’s last words rang in my ears.
Twelve thrones?
“I thought you said there were only seven royal seats.”

Marcus nodded. “There are now, but centuries ago there were twelve thrones.” He shook his head, eyes becoming vacant. “The war changed that. And when their
relationship
,” his tongue grated over the word with hatred, “came to light, a deeper betrayal was discovered. The lycan was carrying the royal’s own flesh and blood, a hybrid abomination.” Marcus crossed his arms over his chest. “After their imprisonment, there were whispers of a revolt amongst the wolves.”

I recalled the prison chambers Caius had shown me yesterday and shuddered. The damp stone walls had been strung with hanging shackles. The pungent stink of death and decay had thickened the air. I shook off the memory and looked to Marcus. He seemed to be waiting for my undivided attention. Seething dread coursed through my chest. My brain screamed for me to keep my mouth shut, but I had to know. “What happened to them?”

“An example needed to be made. The wolves needed to be reminded of their place, not be led to question it.”

Marcus flicked open the leather-bound book to a page printed with a black and white illustration. My throat chocked closed and my head spun, threatening to make me faint. The illustration portrayed a man, shackled to a post above a furnace of blazing flames. His face was twisted, mouth gaping and fangs extended in a torturous cry of pain.

“They burned the royal heir alive,” Marcus’s voice cut through me like a knife. “His lover was forced watched.”

Tears stung my eyes, remembering my mom’s outrage and Kendrick’s hissed words after discovering me with Ty in the forest.
You want to stay here with that, that abomination!
In his eyes I had betrayed our kind. Betrayed everything he was raised to believe in. I lifted my eyes to Marcus, blinking back tears. “What happened to the werewolf?”

“She was to be executed next,” Marcus said with an expression that betrayed no emotion. “But as feared, the guardians did rebel. They rose up, creating a bloodbath—and the woman escaped intact. That fateful day was the beginning of the War of the Races. The day the guardians turned against us and became our sworn enemy.”

Marcus reached out, covering the tremble of my hands with his. I didn’t pull away, his touch somehow easing the uncontrollable shake. “Do you see why you can’t be with him?”

My eyes grew wide. Marcus knew about Ty? I tried to cover my stunned expression while struggling not to hyperventilate. “W-what do you mean?”

Marcus leaned in, his shoulder grazing mine and lips brushing against my ear. “The wolf… It’s the reason you’re here. Isn’t it?”

Instant nausea rippled through my gut. I freed my hands and clutched my tightening stomach, struggling not to gag. Caius would never have revealed such delicate information. There was only one other person here who knew. The ability to control my breathing vanished. I began to hyperventilate. “Kendrick told you?”

“No.” Marcus shook his head, looking irritated. “Your reaction to the story said all I needed to know.”

The room began to spin and my lungs ached with shallow breath. I’d just endangered Ty.

I wanted to run from the library to call and warn him. But Marcus’s hand tightened over mine, keeping me frozen in morbid fear. His eyes rose. “Amelia, I won’t tell anyone.”

I almost choked in disbelief. Then my suspicious mind kicked into overdrive. What would it cost me for him to keep such delicate information? I was a turned vampire, a nobody. I had nothing of value to offer. “Why? What do you want from me?”

Marcus looked wounded, and I questioned his sincerity. “Amelia, it’s not like that.” He ran his tongue over his teeth and sighed. “I’ll keep your secret for one reason and one reason only.”

“And what might that be?”

At my narrowing eyes a thin smile played across Marcus’s pale lips. “Because we share a connection… You felt it too, didn’t you?”

Vulnerability scrawled across his face as I stared at him, stunned. He’d felt it? I forced myself to nod. “I did.”

Marcus released my hands and clenched his jaw. “Just understand the consequences of affiliating with one of theirs. If The Council finds out…” A muscle in his cheek ticked. “History has a way of repeating itself.”

~

The sun beamed down, heating what felt like coarse sand beneath me. I arched up into a sitting position, tucking my knees under my chin. The intensity of a mid-day sun warmed my icy skin, while inside I remained frozen to the bone. The movement of water reached my ears then. It wasn’t the plunging of a waterfall, or the swirl of a river. Instead it was the crushing repetition of rolling waves.

Trying to force the blur of sleep and the blinding light from my eyes, I squinted. The surroundings slowly cleared, like a camera lens coming into focus. Everything around me appeared illuminated. Ocean swells and rocky sand dunes all glowed as though they were a reflection of the sun. A dizzy spell rolled through me and forced my head to tip against my knees. Where was I?