Revelations

Book 2: Belle Morte series

by Bella Higgin

Genres: YA Paranormal; YA Romance

Synopsis

Truth comes at a cost.

Ever since Renie Mayfield survived the merciless attack on Belle Morte that killed donors and vampires alike, she is forever changed. Now a vampire, the agonizing transformation of her body and mind is rivaled only by uncovering the horrific truth about her sister, June, who has escaped the mansion in her rabid form, adding even more chaos to Renie’s reality.

As the vampire responsible for Renie’s change, and now her distress, Edmond Dantes remains in his own desperate place. He’s confined in the secret cells of Belle Morte, awaiting the arrival of the council and the subsequent punishment for his actions. Edmond questions if what he did was right and deeply regrets what has become of his home.

Desperate to free Edmond, find June, and bring justice to whoever is behind the recent violence, Renie is out for blood in more ways than one. The smell of corruption is embedded in the walls of Belle More, but behind the walls are even more secrets that may lead to the truth and to justice.

Release date: May 9, 2023

Publisher: Wattpad WEBTOON Book Group

Print pages: 368

Sample

CHAPTER ONE

Renie

I drifted in darkness, blind and deaf to anything but the constant, gnawing ache in my stomach. Every so often a warm, sweet liquid slid down my throat and the hunger pangs faded, but never for long.

That terrible hunger always surged back, like fire.

Occasionally, there were snatches of awareness: the sensation of cool hands touching my face; the faint murmur of a male voice. At the back of my fevered brain, I was aware that I knew that voice, loved that voice. But then the hunger roared back and everything was lost.

It could have been days, months, or even years before I finally cracked my eyes open. A corniced ceiling took shape above me, bright spots of light coalescing into a crystal chandelier.

Pieces of memory filtered back into my battered brain.

Bel e Morte.

I was lying tangled in black satin covers in a huge four-poster bed, and the walls around me were indigo blue, much darker than the pale-gold bedroom I shared with Roux. Light from the chandelier winked off a pair of swords mounted on the wall.

I knew this room—this was Edmond’s bedroom.

And standing by that bed was Edmond Dantès himself, the vampire I’d fallen in love with. He looked like a dark angel, all coal-black hair and ivory skin, eyes glittering like diamonds, and the breath would have caught in my lungs at the sheer beauty of him . . . but I no longer needed to breathe.

I touched my throat, then pressed my palm to my chest. No heartbeat.

Memories rushed back, making me reel: June’s escape from the west wing, the attack on Belle Morte, my final attempt to help her, which had ended with her plunging a knife into my chest, and—

“Etienne,” I gasped. My lungs felt rusty and my lips were dry.

The vampire who had pretended to be my friend—who’d helped me find the truth about June only to reveal that he was the one who’d killed her and turned her into a monster.

Edmond slid onto the bed next to me, as graceful and as fluid as a cat. “Hush, mon ange. Don’t worry about that now.”

I recoiled from him instinctively, and Edmond went very still.

Emotion roared in my head, making it hard to think.

I was dead.

I had died out there in the snow.

All I’d wanted when I’d come to Belle Morte was to make sure that June was okay, and now I couldn’t even comprehend what the future held. I’d never grow older than eighteen. I’d never have a career. It would be years before I built up enough UV resistance to spend any real time in the sun. All the things I’d taken for granted as a human were lost to me now.

The pain of all those lost maybes caught in my throat, making my eyes burn, but no tears fell.

My palm was still pressed to my chest, vainly waiting to feel the thump of a heart that would never beat again. Probing my teeth with my tongue, I flinched when I felt the sharp points of fangs. When I’d first opened my eyes as a vampire, cradled in Edmond’s arms on the snowy grounds of Belle Morte, I’d been aware of these changes, but in an abstract sort of way.

Now the reality hit me like a hammer to the brain.

I was a vampire.

For the rest of my life, I’d have to rely on human blood to survive.

I’d become the very thing I’d once feared.

“What have you done to me?” I whispered.

A shadow of pain swept across Edmond’s perfect face.

Nausea curdled inside me, and I clutched my stomach. The sweet liquid I remembered drinking when I was lost in the darkness, the only thing that had quelled the hunger pangs—that had been blood.

I’d been drinking human blood.

“I’m a monster,” I rasped. 

Still, Edmond didn’t move, didn’t speak, but the look in his eyes was devastated, like something inside him was breaking.

I’d given him permission to turn me—I knew that, but I didn’t know how to cope with the monumental change that had come over my body and my life. I was scared and angry, and I had no idea what I was supposed to do with myself.

An aching wave of hunger rolled over me and I groaned. My fangs pricked my lower lip, and my gums throbbed.

Ignoring my harsh words, Edmond pulled me gently against his chest. “The hunger will pass. You’re almost there,” he murmured.

His voice was like velvet, wrapping me in warmth and safety, and the room dimmed, blackness rushing to welcome me back. My last thought was that, despite what I’d said to him, I was glad that Edmond was here, holding me.

Edmond

Sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Renie toss and turn in a restless sleep, Edmond wished there’d been another way to save her.

He’d once told her that if he could go back in time, even if he knew all the terrible times that awaited him as a vampire, he’d still choose this life. But he wouldn’t have chosen it for her.

Etienne’s treachery had given Edmond what he desperately wanted—for Renie to stay with him. Now she would never grow old and die while he watched helplessly. They had a chance to actually be together.

But that meant nothing if Renie wasn’t happy with the choice she’d made.

The door opened and Ysanne Moreau swept in, Ludovic following tentatively behind. The Lady of Belle Morte cast her eye over Renie’s sleeping form, but her cool expression didn’t change.

“How is she doing?” she asked.

“Better,” Edmond replied, stroking the tangled mess of Renie’s auburn hair, brighter than ever against her vampire-pale skin.

Ysanne knew about his feelings for Renie now, but he’d first lied to her about them, and he knew Ysanne wouldn’t forget that. Their friendship had been forged through the ages, love and loss binding them together, and Edmond had hated to lie to the person who’d known him longer than anyone. But relationships between vampires and donors were strictly forbidden, and when Edmond realized that he couldn’t fight his feelings for Renie, he’d had to lie to his oldest friend.

“Do you believe she’s through the worst of it?” Ysanne asked.

“Because the Council will be coming soon, and you can’t be here when they arrive.”

Edmond closed his eyes. Turning a human without permission from the Council—the collective rulers of the British and Irish Vampire Houses

—was one of the most serious crimes a vampire could commit. Ysanne should have punished him immediately, but she’d stayed her hand so he could help Renie through the turn. It was not a reprieve that anyone else would have granted. But even Ysanne couldn’t hold off his punishment forever, especially when she herself was in serious trouble with the Council.

Under her watch, June Mayfield had been killed and turned, but instead of waking up as a vampire, she had woken up rabid. Vampire law decreed that rabids were too dangerous to live, and Ysanne should have killed June the moment she’d found her. She hadn’t.

Instead, she’d hidden June in the mansion’s west wing, and then she’d brought Renie to Belle Morte under the guise of being a donor, hoping that Renie might be able to help June recover her sanity.

But Renie had failed. Rabids could not be saved, and by the time Ysanne realized that, it was too late—Etienne had turned June loose on the house just as Belle Morte had come under attack from enemy forces.

The bodies of the people who’d died because of that had been removed, but the house still smelled of blood.

Edmond’s illegal turning of Renie was just one of the many bleak shadows darkening Belle Morte.

“Edmond?” Ysanne prompted, and he realized he hadn’t answered her question.

He gazed down at Renie again, curled up in his bed where she’d been for the last three days, her hair spread over his pillow like a shower of autumn leaves. He could tell Ysanne that he needed more time with her, but it would be a lie. Renie was through the worst of the turn—the next time she awoke, it would be as a true vampire. Edmond had helped her as much as he could, and he wouldn’t disrespect the time Ysanne had given him by asking for more. He wouldn’t lie to her again.

“Yes,” he said, his heart feeling like a rock in his chest. He had no idea what punishment he had incurred by turning the girl he loved.

Ysanne’s icy mask slipped for a fraction of a second. “Vieil ami, you know I have no choice.”

Edmond climbed off the bed and approached her—the woman who’d first opened his eyes to the vampire world and who he’d once loved as a partner and still loved as a friend. “I would never blame you,” he said. “The choice was mine, and I’d make it again, regardless of the consequences.”

Ysanne kissed his cheek, a soft brush of her lips, and then the cool mask was back in place.

“It’s time to go,” she said.

Edmond looked back at Renie, memorizing every line of her face, every strand of her hair. He remembered the way her lips curved when she smiled

at him, the way her eyes could flash with anger or glitter with laughter. He committed every part of her to memory because he didn’t know when he’d see her again.

Ysanne left the room and Edmond started to follow her, but stopped when Ludovic put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll take care of her,” Ludovic said.

Edmond laid his hand on Ludovic’s. “Thank you,” he said.

Then, with one last look back at the girl who’d stolen his ancient heart, Edmond left to pay the price for saving her.

Renie

The next time I woke up, Edmond had gone. Ludovic and Isabeau stood close to the door, speaking in low voices. I was a vampire now, and could hear every word they said. Too bad I didn’t speak French.

They both looked over as I slowly sat up, and Ludovic approached me. His face was unreadable. “How do you feel?”

“I . . . okay.” The crippling hunger pangs had faded to a dull ache in the pit of my stomach.

I climbed out of bed, expecting my legs to feel shaky, but they were strong. My whole body felt strong.

This was it then. I really was a vampire.

When I was first turned, I hadn’t had time to process the enormity of it; I’d literally just died, after all. In my conscious moments during the turn, I’d registered only the worst parts. Now I was calmer, more able to think about the decision I’d made.

Yes, I was a vampire, and while I was technically no longer alive, I would still live. Possibly forever. I had never imagined something like this happening to me, and it would take some serious getting used to, but the knife that June had plunged into my chest had not ended everything.

June . . .

A sharp pain sliced through my heart, and I sucked in a breath that I didn’t need anymore.

“What happened?” I asked.

“How much do you remember?” Isabeau asked, clasping her hands in front of her. Her thick hazelnut curls were pulled back in a low ponytail, and her expression was solemn.

“I remember Etienne being the bastard who murdered my sister,”

I said in a low, hard voice. “Where is he?”

Ludovic and Isabeau exchanged a look.

“We don’t know,” Isabeau said.

“What?”

Ludovic took over. “After June stabbed you, she and Etienne disappeared. By the time Edmond and I reached the gardens, they’d gone.

We have no idea where they went.”

“Roux? Jason?” I said.

I hadn’t come to Belle Morte to make friends, but my roommate, Roux Hayes, and Jason Grant, another donor who’d arrived at the same time as us, had quickly found their way under my skin and into my heart. They were the best friends I’d never expected to have.

“They’re fine,” Isabeau said, but something in her voice gave me pause.

“How long have I been here?” I asked.

“Three days.”

“Where’s Edmond?”

Another look passed between the older vampires, and Ludovic’s face darkened.

“Renie, you must understand that Edmond did something very serious by turning you,” said Isabeau gently.

My stomach turned to ice. Something was wrong.

“Where is he?” I repeated.

“Yesterday he was imprisoned for turning you without permission,” Ludovic said.

His eyes were hard as he looked at me, and I wondered if he blamed me for what had happened. Edmond was his best friend, someone he’d survived the hell of war with, and Edmond wouldn’t be locked up if I hadn’t come to Belle Morte.

Then the ice in my stomach turned to fire.

No, Edmond wouldn’t be locked up if Etienne hadn’t murdered my sister.

“Did Ysanne lock him up?” I demanded.

I wanted Ludovic to say no, that it had been done by another member of the Council. Just days ago, Ysanne had had Edmond whipped with silver for defending me against another vampire; I couldn’t bear to think that she’d punish him again.

“Yes, she did,” Ludovic said.

I closed my eyes.

There were bigger things going on here than just Edmond and me—I knew that—but the thought of him suffering, again, for my sake, was almost more than I could bear.

Edmond no longer loved Ysanne romantically, but he still loved her as a friend. He still trusted and respected her. Did that count for nothing?

“Can I see him?” I said.

Isabeau shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”

This wasn’t fair. Edmond had only turned me to save my life. How could Ysanne punish him for that?

“I need to see Ysanne,” I said.

Isabeau’s expression was sympathetic but firm. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Rage suddenly blazed through me, faster than I could rein it in.

“I don’t care what you think. Maybe you blindly support everything Ysanne does because you’re sleeping with her, or whatever you two are doing, but I’m not standing by while she does

 this to him. Not again.”

Isabeau’s eyes flared red and her lips pulled back from her fangs.

“Watch what you say,” she warned.

“What’s Ysanne going to do—terminate my contract? I’m not a donor anymore.”

As I spoke, I felt a strange swell of power—not physical power but something else. I was a vampire now, and Ysanne couldn’t brush me off the way she had when I was human.

I stalked across the room and threw open the door so hard it left a dent in the fancy wallpaper.

Isabeau strode after me. The red had faded from her eyes but her face was set in hard lines. “Don’t be foolish, Renie.”

Her hand touched my shoulder but I shook her off. I spun to face her, my bare feet sinking into the thick carpet that lined Belle Morte’s many hallways. Rage blistered inside me, so hot and fierce it felt like I would combust on the spot. My gums ached as my fangs emerged, sliding to their full length.

This wasn’t just about Edmond. It was about my sweet sister dying in this house and coming back as a blood-crazed monster at the hands of a man I had trusted. It was about that man escaping justice while Edmond was punished for saving my life.

Isabeau regarded me, her face infuriatingly blank. If I’d hoped that becoming a vampire would mean I could better decipher what they might be thinking, I’d been wrong to.

Ludovic stood a little behind her, his eyes fixed on me. When Edmond had leaped to my defense against Adrian, the vampire who’d groped me during a welcome party for visitors from House Nox, Ludovic had made sure no one else had bothered me while Edmond and Adrian were removed from the ballroom. He’d shielded me from Adrian when the other vampire returned, and then a few hours later he’d broken Belle Morte’s rules and smuggled me into the north wing, where the vampires slept and no donor was meant to go, so I could see Edmond after his beating. I wasn’t sure how Ludovic felt about me at this point, but I hoped he understood that the rage I felt was on Edmond’s behalf.

Pieces of memory clicked together in my head, and I remembered what I’d said to Edmond the last time I’d woken up. Some of my rage died down, replaced by scalding shame. I’d called myself a monster—

and by extension, him. I’d blamed Edmond because, however horrible and unfair it was, in that moment I needed to blame someone.

It had been a while since I’d truly thought of vampires as monsters, but when I’d felt the prick of my fangs and realized I’d been drinking human blood, my old fears had resurfaced, and had spilled cruelly from my mouth.

I had to see Edmond, and Ysanne was the only person who could give me that.

“I told Edmond I would take care of you,” Ludovic said, still watching me.

“You can’t stop me from going to Ysanne.”

He could, but that didn’t stop me saying it. And it didn’t stop him from replying: “I know.”

Turning my back on the two vampires, I walked off to find Ysanne.

I had no idea what I’d do when I did, but I couldn’t leave Edmond like this.

He’d saved me. Now I would save him.

 

CHAPTER TWO

Edmond

Edmond Dantès leaned his head on the stone wall behind him, Renie’s words playing in an endless, savage loop through his mind.

The Belle Morte cells, hidden away so donors and most staff didn’t even know they existed, were a far cry from the luxury of the rest of the mansion. They were stark stone rooms, almost medieval in their austerity, with no furniture and no amenities—nothing to break up the solid stone except for iron rings driven deep into the walls.

Edmond had been in worse prisons—the days he’d spent in the Conciergerie during the French Revolution were among the bleakest of his life—but the Belle Morte cells held one horror that the Conciergerie had not.

He was shackled with silver.

Silver manacles and chains bound his wrists to the rings in the walls, the metal burning through skin and flesh. Blood formed small puddles on either side of his body, and the slightest movement was agony.

He had no idea how long he’d be here.

The door opened and Ysanne walked in. To anyone else, she would have looked like she normally did—the icy Lady of Belle Morte. But Edmond knew her. He could see the way she moved, a little slower than normal, the way she held herself a little too rigidly, and the shadows in her eyes.

The click of her high heels echoed around the stone walls, fading to silence when she paused in front of him.

“Oh, mon garçon d’hiver,” she said quietly. “This isn’t what I wanted for you.”

“I don’t blame you,” Edmond said.

Ysanne took off her shoes and knelt in front of him, her hands folded in her lap. For a long moment neither of them said a word.

“Renie called herself a monster,” said Edmond. “After everything, she still sees us that way. I often thought about how hard it would be to watch her walk out of Belle Morte and never come back. I faced the awful reality of watching her die out there in the snow. But I never thought she’d turn on me.”

“Stop it,” said Ysanne firmly. “Renie is not Charlotte. This is not the same situation.”

Hundreds of years ago, Edmond had confessed his vampire nature to another woman he’d loved. Charlotte’s response had been to declare him a monster and gather a mob to kill him. Her betrayal had left a deep scar on Edmond’s heart.

Ysanne tilted her head slightly, so her blond hair slipped over one shoulder. “I do know how it feels,” she said. “A long time ago, a woman I deeply cared for turned on me in the same way when she found out what I was. But I do not believe that Renie sees you as a monster.”

Edmond managed a half smile that turned into a hiss of pain as his shackled wrists moved slightly. “I never thought I’d see the day that you defended her.”

“I’m not. I’m advising you to let go of the past.”

“What happens to Renie now?”

Ysanne considered it. “I don’t know. That depends on what happens when the Council gets here.”

Edmond tried not to think about the fact that turning Renie illegally wasn’t his only transgression: he’d helped Ysanne hide June, and had helped cover up June’s murder along with Isabeau and, later on, Ludovic. The Council would expect answers from all of them.

“The vampires who attacked the house—they must have been working for Etienne,” he said.

Ysanne’s lips thinned. “That seems the most likely assumption.”

“But why? What was he trying to achieve?”

Ysanne said nothing, her eyes pensive.

Edmond shifted, instinctively reaching for his old friend, then squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of agony rolled over him. Anyone else might not have been able to face what they had done to him, but Ysanne watched

every second, without flinching, without apologizing. He knew that it hurt her to know that she was the cause of his suffering, but she wouldn’t shy away from it. She wouldn’t pretend it wasn’t happening.

“For a long time you said that you’d never give your heart to anyone again,” Ysanne said. “What changed? Why is Renie so special?”

“Over the last ten years, more donors have come into Belle Morte than I can remember, and they’ve always treated me the same way: They look at me with awe, wanting to be with me just because I’m a vampire. They try to tempt their way into my bed in the hopes that I will make them immortal. They see me as a novelty, some unattainable prize they want to claim.”

“But not Renie,” Ysanne guessed.

“From the moment she arrived, she refused to be starstruck by me. She was the first human girl in a very long time to treat me like an ordinary person rather than a trophy, and I wasn’t prepared for that.”

Renie had exploded into his life like a wrecking ball, all temper and beauty and defiance, cracking the wall that he’d spent so long building around himself, and his old, wounded heart had started to feel again.

He’d never wanted to fall in love again, but that’s what this was.

He loved Renie.

Much as he’d tried to fight it, he’d given her his heart, one small piece at a time. She owned it—owned every part of him.

And despite Ysanne’s reassurances, Edmond wasn’t convinced that Renie didn’t regret her decision—didn’t blame him for turning her. In his centuries-long life he’d seen and done and suffered so much, but the thought of losing Renie crushed him.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Isabeau?” he asked, trying to focus on something else.

He’d known that Ysanne and Isabeau had been a couple back in the ’60s, but not once in the ten years that they’d all lived in Belle Morte had Ysanne even hinted that she and Isabeau had rekindled their relationship.

Ysanne looked down at her hands. “I didn’t tell anyone.”

“You don’t normally keep things from me.”

“Like you kept Renie from me?”

Edmond shut his eyes against another wave of pain from the silver shackles. “That’s different,” he said. “Renie and I weren’t allowed to be together; we had to keep it secret.”

“A fair point,” Ysanne conceded. “Isabeau and I decided that our relationship should remain a secret because my priority will always be Belle Morte. The House must come first, no matter what, and I can’t be seen to have favorites.”

“Not even when it’s the woman you love?”

A pause.

“Not even then,” Ysan

ne said.

“It doesn’t have to be like this.”

Ysanne’s smile was small and a little sad. “Yes, it does. If I could get away with favoring the people most important to me, then you wouldn’t be locked up like this.”

“I knew there’d be a price for turning Renie, and I’d pay it a thousand times over.”

“You really love her, don’t you?” Ysanne said, her voice soft.

“More than anything.” Edmond flexed his fingers, feeling the awful burn of the silver chains. “Promise me you’ll keep her safe. Etienne is still out there. We have no idea what he wants, but he’s tried to kill her before, and there’s nothing to suggest he won’t try again.”

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” Ysanne said.

She climbed to her feet, smoothed out her skirt, and slipped her shoes back on. “I should go before the rest of the Council arrives. We have a lot to discuss.”

Edmond should be supporting Renie as she faced the Council; instead, he was stuck down here, chained and helpless. His hands ached with the urge to curl into fists, but that would only make the pain worse.

Ysanne softly kissed Edmond’s forehead, and then walked out of the cells and closed the door behind her, leaving him alone.

Resting his head on the wall again, Edmond closed his eyes and thought of Renie.

Renie

As I stalked out of the north wing, I almost ran into Tamara, a donor who’d arrived at Belle Morte at the same time as me. Her eyes widened, and I wondered how many people knew what had really happened out on the grounds a few nights ago. Knowing Ysanne, she would have kept as much of it under wraps as possible, so I could only imagine the rumors that were flying around.

Tamara’s heartbeat was a hammering noise in my ears, inviting my eyes to the shape of her throat, the veins beneath her skin. I was thirsty, I realized with a jolt of horror. I wanted to bite Tamara and drink her blood.

She shrank back, and I wondered what I looked like to her. Were my eyes shining red? Could she see my fangs? Her heart beat faster, the scent of her blood filling the air, tempting me.

I hurried past her. Would I always feel that temptation around a human, or would the urge to bite fade with time?

At the bottom of the staircase I paused, one hand clutching the banister. The last time I’d come down these stairs Belle Morte had been under attack, and I’d been rushing to the ballroom in a misguided attempt to pr0

tect Edmond. But here, in the vestibule, I’d found two bodies: a vampire I hadn’t known, and Abigail, one of the donors. Her blood had been mopped up and the parquet floor was as clean and polished as ever, but I could still see her lying there, her arm hanging from her body by a string of sinew, her eyes staring at the ceiling, frozen wide with shock and terror.

Hot on the heels of that memory came another: Aiden lying at the bottom of the steps in the west wing, his throat ripped open, the monster that had been my sister crouched over him.

Had anyone else died in the attack?

My mind went to Melissa. She’d been June’s friend, and she’d pushed for answers after she’d realized I hadn’t come here to be a donor, but I hadn’t been able to give them to her. She’d also been Aiden’s girlfriend. He’d gone to the west wing to find the truth, and June had killed him for it.

Was Melissa okay?

I looked back up the main staircase. Maybe I should go to her first.

Then I thought of Edmond again. I needed to know what was happening to him. Ysanne had the answers to everything—assuming she was willing to share them.

Her office was the likeliest place to find her, and when I got there, I walked in without knocking. It was empty. I stared around the small room, as cold and remote as Ysanne herself, all dark wallpaper and white carpet and polished black desk. The desk was empty but for a small wooden frame that I’d never seen before. I crept closer and picked it up. It was small enough to fit in the palm of my hand: a framed oil painting of a handsome man with dark hair and olive skin, smiling softly. The style of the artistry, the faded colors, and the battered frame all suggested that this painting was very old, and I quickly put it back down before I did something stupid like drop it.

The door opened behind me and I whipped around.

Ysanne’s eyes went from me to the painting and narrowed. “You shouldn’t be in here without my permission,” she said.

I’d been so angry when I’d left the north wing, but memories of the terrible night that had ended my human life had drained the rage out of me, leaving a bone-deep exhaustion.

“Why are you punishing Edmond for saving my life?” I said.

Ysanne walked across the room, her high heels noiseless in the thick carpet. She picked up the tiny painting, and I thought I glimpsed her thumb gently stroking the frame before she placed it in one of the desk drawers.

“I’m not. I’m punishing him for breaking the rules,” she said.

“Is that how you see the world? As nothing but rules to be upheld?

Isn’t there any room for compassion or humanity?”

“The turning of humans is a serious offense. When the Council created the donor system we agreed that turning new vampires would be an emergency-only situation.”

“It was an emergency. I was dying.”

Ysanne simply looked

at me, as frustratingly blank as ever. “To vampires who have lived hundreds of years, and to the balance that exists between us and humans, the life of a single girl is not worth much.”

She placed her hands flat on the desktop and leaned forward. I knew firsthand how powerful those pale, delicate hands really were.

“Humans vastly outnumber vampires, and they could wipe us out if they wanted to. Edmond has broken one of our most important laws and he must be punished, both so the Council sees how seriously I am taking his transgression and so the human world realizes we are not ruled by our baser instincts.”

I wasn’t blind to the reality of this. Humans saw vampires as beautiful, mysterious, and immortal—somehow more than ordinary people. But if the human world caught a glimpse of the dangerous beast that lurked beneath the polished veneer, they might not be so enamored of vampires. And if human favor turned against them, the donor system could disintegrate and the Houses could collapse.

Vampires could be driven back into the shadows.

Even so—“There are exceptions to every rule,” I insisted.

“Perhaps,” Ysanne conceded. “But vampires are predators; we can smell weakness. If I am seen to be weak, ...