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  Then, at last, he collapses back, panting. “When I’m gone, you’ll have to become the senior Bloodmore. You’ll have to take my place and lead the family.”

  Every muscle in my body stiffens. “That’s never going to happen!”

  Never. My brother will always be around. We’ll always be together.

  Reaching behind him to my rocking chair, I snatch a blanket off and move closer to him, pressing it against the wound in his stomach. His hands fall away, and his gaze grows glossy.

  “Feed on me,” I tell him. “I can be happy!”

  I reach for positive emotions, but only find misery and fear. I grit my teeth and try like mad to think of the things that make me smile. I think of how, before Rayne hit his growth spurt, some people thought we were twins. As his little sister, I drank it in every time someone pointed out our similarities. Even though his eyes are blue and mine are grey, we have the same light brown hair, and even the same bone structure, down to our noses and lips.

  And I was proud to look like the person I loved most in this world. I smile at the thought and let my emotions flood out of me in a way I never do. Always I hold back. Always I fear what will happen if anyone tastes the truth of what I am. But to ease Rayne’s pain, I could be vulnerable.

  I could do anything for my brother.

  Rayne’s head lolls to the side. “Be—be careful, Esmeray. You’re next. Don’t trust…anyone.”

  And then, he stops talking.

  My heart races, and I reach my hand out and lightly touch the side of his neck.

  There’s no pulse. There’s nothing. Not even a trace of life.

  “Rayne!” I call his name, then shake his arm.

  This is impossible. This can’t be happening.

  My vision wavers as I pull back the blanket and stare at his wound. Black streaks mar his injuries.

  A poison.

  It’s like my brain won’t work. I try to save him. To wake him. I scream and shout, and I clean and cover his wounds, but he never stirs.

  An immortal has died.

  My brother has died.

  It should be impossible. It should…never have happened. But no matter how much I deny it, he lies unmoving on the floor as I gather him to my chest and scream and scream. Ghosts come from every corner of our estate, surrounding me. I hear my monsters howling over the thunder and the rain, but nothing is more real to me than the stiff body of my brother in my arms.

  The wind roars outside and the lightning crackles. The worst thing imaginable has just happened. And for the first time in my life, there’s nothing I can do but cry.

  3

  Esmeray

  My brother’s funeral took place on the family grounds on a bright and sunny day. All the Bloodmores came to stand at my parents’ side and mourn the heir of our family line. Friends and acquaintances, hoping to get into my family’s good graces, came too. And, of course, my brother's best friends, who stayed for the briefest amount of time, and then left in a hurry.

  All our visitors avoided my father without even a touch of subtlety, like the dark blood running through his veins might be contagious; instead, they gravitated toward my mother. She, the ruler of our powerful house, was respected by all. And everyone treated my mother as if she’d lost her only child, because until that day I hadn’t existed to them.

  I spoke to no one. My grief was so thick and miserable that I could do nothing more than nod in the direction of the fake sympathy piled on me, and then stray to the shadows of the woods to stare at my brother’s headstone and cry.

  It was several hours later when I was called to my parents’ study. I went, feeling numb and lost to the world. Wishing like mad that they could just let me sink into my bed and spend the night staring into the darkness, replaying the moments before my brother died. But that wasn’t my parents’ way. The Bloodmores don’t mourn, such a thing would be beneath us. Opening the door to the study, I stare at my mother and father, trying like mad to contain my misery until I could escape the room.

  My father, the man my brother and I got our height from, sits in the big, leather chair at his desk gazing at me with calculating eyes. If anyone else were to visit my parents, they would be careful to keep their arrangement concealed. My mother would be seated in the chair, and my father would stand far behind her. The proper place for our kind.

  Only in front of me do they drop the façade. But sometimes I wish they wouldn’t. While my father secretly helps to run our house, in front of others my mother delivers their decisions with kindness. With me, there was no kindness, just my father’s unbending will.

  My mother stands at my father’s right. Her hair is long, and an unusual soft brown shade that looks dark at times and at others blonde, like my own. It falls down her shoulders in perfect spiraling curls that feel at odds with her dapper black gown. In her eyes, there is a calm resolve, but beyond that I sense the same overwhelming pain that I carried in my own heart.

  Bloodmores don’t mourn…but she does.

  After a minute, my father clears his throat. “Up until recent events, your ongoings meant little to the family. Your days spent in idleness. Your nights spent preying upon humans. None of it mattered. But all that has changed now. As the heir to the Bloodmore house, you must fulfill your duties, which means in order to rule one day, you must attend the Royal Fae Academy. It will be a chance to learn how to become a leader, but also to make the powerful connections that such a position requires.”

  “But I thought the Royal Fae Academy wouldn’t allow my kind in?” I ask, even though I already know the lie they had to have told in order to get me into an academy that doesn’t allow creatures as dangerous as I am.

  My father and mother exchange a glance, and then my mother answers softly, “They made an exception because of your…unusual heritage.”

  I’m sure the thought of me attending their school made their skin crawl, and I’m sure my parents made a generous donation to allow them to bend the rules.

  But it doesn’t matter, I won’t go. “No,” I say, raising my chin just a fraction.

  Tension hangs in the air as my father responds. “That wasn’t a question.”

  For the briefest moment, I feel his powers, so like mine, grasping at my mind. And I know we share the same dark ability to kill with little effort. It doesn’t surprise me that in this moment he has a longing to hurt me; it does surprise me that I can feel him doing it.

  My powers must be growing stronger.

  “Someone at that academy killed Rayne!” I say, my teeth clenching together. “Don’t either of you care?”

  “Esmeray.” My mother says my name softly.

  “No one killed your brother,” my father interrupts, scoffing. “Like we were told, he made a mistake when he played with a forbidden and dangerous weapon, one that was laced with poison and iron. These things sometimes happen.”

  He knows the school’s explanation was a lie, but he refuses to listen because he knows he can’t do a damned thing about it!

  “Rayne wasn’t stupid!” I glare at him. “He wouldn’t do something like that!”

  My father rises from the desk, and my mother glances at me with a nervous look. “Enough of this nonsense! I understand you are…sad about your brother, but life goes on. A Bloodmore must be at the academy learning, and the dean has generously allowed you to go in your brother’s place. So, tomorrow you will go.”

  “And what if I tell them the truth!” I threaten, throwing the words at them like a weapon.

  The color drains from my mother’s face. “Esmeray, you can never tell anyone. You know that. If anyone should even suspect…you’ll lose everything.”

  What she means is that we’ll lose everything. I could argue, but I suddenly don’t have the energy anymore. Turning, I open the door.

  “Esmeray!” my mother calls, and I freeze at the pain in her voice. “Don’t let your grief destroy your future. No one outside this family can ever know the truth.”

  I don’t bother t
elling her I’d never be stupid enough to tell anyone about what I am; instead, I slip out, knowing my father will be angry that I left without being dismissed. I walk through the house on feet that seem detached and go out to the graveyard a short walk from our house.

  Collapsing onto my knees before my brother’s grave, my knees are instantly soaked by the wet earth. An image comes into my mind of Rayne laughing, of him chasing me through our house, of the light he brought into my life. When he went to the academy, it was like I’d lost a piece of myself. I’d counted down the days until he’d return. Until I’d have a reason to smile again.

  But now…he’ll never truly return to me.

  I’m on the edge of completely losing my shit again when a ghost shimmers into existence beside me. He’s a familiar white shimmering light, one I know well enough not to be willing to fall apart in front of. The headless ghost passes through me, leaving a chill on my skin for a few seconds, before settling beside me.

  “I know he isn’t gone,” I say, striving to hide my weakness.

  “But it’s still hard,” the head clutched in his hand responds, in a knowing voice.

  I nod, feeling foolish as tears fill my eyes. “Someone at that damned school killed him, I know it! And now my parents are sending me there to replace him, like Rayne could ever be replaced!”

  The ghost is quiet for a long time before finally speaking in his soft, knowing voice. “And you plan to go find your brother’s killer and seek revenge?”

  I stiffen. “I don’t…I don’t know what to do.”

  “It seems clear,” the ghost whispers.

  Go to the school, find the bastards, and kill them. Of course!

  I turn slowly and look at him. “Do you really think I can do it?”

  “Absolutely,” he tells me. “You’re the most bloodthirsty monster I’ve ever encountered, and that’s quite the compliment.”

  Suddenly, it’s like my life has meaning once more. I’m not going to the academy to replace my brother or to accept my new role in life as the heir to my family; I’m going to find the bastards that killed my brother and make them wish they had died instead.

  Standing, I smile down at the headless ghost. “Thanks, Charlie.”

  He begins to fade. “Any time.”

  Turning, I sprint back to the house, swearing an oath that the masters at Royal Fae Academy will rue the day they let one of my kind in.

  4

  Bron

  We sit beneath our tree near the center of campus. It’s the perfect spot, far enough off the main sidewalk to avoid anyone listening to our conversations, but close enough to see nearly everything in the busiest part of Royal Fae Academy. My step-father would have been proud of me. No matter how much time passes, I’m always on guard. Always hugging the line between being a predator and making certain I’m not the prey for someone else.

  It wasn’t a fae way of seeing the world, but it was the only way I knew.

  Beside me, Lucian and Dwade play chess. Lucian leans back as he waits for Dwade to make his next move. There’s a slight smile dancing along his mouth, like always, and his blue eyes have a permanently mischievous light. He loves playing chess, but especially against Dwade.

  Dwade is Lucian’s complete opposite. The giant of a man has his back bent over the board, and his eyes roam the pieces, searching for any weakness. His lips are turned into a scowl and he clenches and unclenches his hands, as if to remind himself that on the wrestling mat he could destroy Lucian with ease.

  “Any time now,” Lucian teases.

  The big man glares. “I didn’t rush you!”

  Lucian’s grin widens, and he opens the sandwich bag beside him and digs out a fresh chocolate chip cookie. It surprised most people that Lucian not only enjoyed cooking so much, but also that he was so good at it. The other students probably saw his formidable parents when they looked at him, but that’s because they hadn’t known him as a boy. They hadn’t seen the child who spent every waking minute with a grandmother who adored him. They hadn’t seen them cooking together and laughing, the sunlight streaming around them like a perfect memory. But I had.

  So when I saw Lucian cooking, I knew he was never more true to himself.

  It was the same when I saw the look on his face near a campfire. No one else saw the fear in his eyes, but I did.

  “Cookie?” Lucian asks, munching his snack and fiddling with the chain of his necklace.

  Dwade glared and reached for a chess piece, then froze and dropped his hand again. I almost told Dwade that this wasn’t real. Men and women wouldn’t die if he made the wrong choice, but I swallow the words down. Dwade’s family were known as the Light Warriors. They had protected our kind for as far back as the history books would go. The guy had been raised with the message drilled into his mind that every choice was life or death. Nothing I said would change that.

  So, I sigh and lean back further against the trunk of a tree. Usually this would be the moment Rayne and I would exchange a knowing look and start talking about anything else to avoid watching the two. He would find ways to look at the good side of every situation, and before long my mood would change to match his.

  But Rayne isn’t here now. The thought makes my gut clench and the darkness that lives deep inside of me rears its head as if to say I’ve lost the only thing keeping me sane. The only person in this place truly capable of standing on the edge with me, but keeping me from falling off.

  Maybe without Rayne, I’ll finally just…jump.

  I stand, and both men glance in my direction. “I’m going for a walk.”

  The humor fades from Lucian’s face. “Are you sure? I think we should try to stick together right now.”

  “I’m fine,” I say.

  “No you’re not, and neither are we. Especially after seeing Esmeray at the funeral—“

  Something settles hard in my belly at the mention of her name. “I’m fine.”

  Turning, I stomp away from them, not caring what direction I go. The last thing I want to think about is Esmeray right now. She’s our best friend’s sister, and there’s nothing pure about the way we feel about her. When we were young, there was just a connection. A love and devotion for her like she was our own sister. But when we came back to visit her, those strong feelings changed, and there was nothing brotherly about them anymore.

  We’d planned to tell Rayne the truth when she got old enough. But somehow, we always put it off. We always thought we’d have more time. But now, he was gone, and we’d never have his blessing.

  It makes my stomach turn just to think about it. One moment all I can do is picture the way they’d said Rayne had died. I’d known something was wrong that night. I’d thought that if I’d gotten to him soon enough, he’d be okay.

  But I was wrong.

  The next moment I’m thinking about Esmeray. I’d suspected Rayne had gone to our hometown, so I’d checked out his favorite club, hoping he’d gone there for help. When I’d walked into the club, I’d instantly sensed her there. It’d been years since I’d set eyes on her, but the familiar, almost undeniable pull had made me wind deeper and deeper into the club.

  And then, I’d stopped.

  Across the room was a woman, instead of the girl I remembered. Her hair had looked so damn soft, falling down her shoulders. She’d sat tall and confident, radiating a sexual energy that made my blood boil. The dress she’d worn was criminal, not something one of our kind should have been out in, but it suited her long legs just fine. The red dress had dipped low in front, showing off far too much cleavage for a room full of other men.

  I’d been pulled closer to her. Her face was like a memory of the girl I’d known. Her brows dark, arched over wide grey eyes. Her lips large, with the strangest pouty quality I’d never noticed before.

  And then she’d put her hand on the other man’s thigh.

  Something inside of me had snapped. A rage unlike anything I’d felt in my life had me wishing I was a dark fae, that I could kill the man with
a thought and leave him a soulless body. Never had I imagined that our beautiful Esmeray would be touching other men.

  But seeing her there, a twenty-one-year-old woman with long legs, full breasts, and a pouty mouth, I’d raged not just at the man but at myself. Had we imagined she’d spent the last few years playing in the graveyard with her ghosts? No, our beautiful woman no doubt had enjoyed her share of men’s beds.

  “Hi, Bron!”

  I freeze, coming back to reality. I realize I’m breathing hard, my fists clenched. Anger and jealousy are raging within me like a storm. But luckily for me, I had walls around my emotions so every fae here wouldn’t be aware of my turbulent emotions.

  A woman races up to me. A blonde with painted lips and a long flowing dress. She looked like every light fae at this school, pretty, but unremarkable. “I’m so sorry about Rayne.”

  I stare at her. Why was she sorry about him? I’m pretty damned sure if she knew him, she didn’t know him well. But then, I guess her response was just the kind of thing people felt they had to say.

  She shifts, as if uncomfortable. “He was a good man.”

  “Yes, he was,” I say and wait, sure of what’s to come.

  She twists a piece of hair around one finger. “I was thinking, if you wanted me to come over and--”

  “That’s okay. Thank you though.”

  She looks disappointed, but it was better that I be direct with her than lead her on. Nothing was ever going to happen between us.

  “Okay, maybe some other time.”

  “Maybe,” I say, but my tone says no.

  Then I turn and keep walking, my thoughts turning. Before we’d realized what Esmeray meant to us, my friends and I had our share of women. But from the day we felt that pull to her four years ago, on our last visit home, there had been no other women but her. No matter how often women flirted and offered themselves to us, we were waiting for Esmeray.