My chance to catch Canus in a conversation comes the next evening, after Scintilla volunteers to take the first shift to watch over Katy. I walk with her to the front door, then double back to Canus’s rooms to see him still reclined in his chaise longue, scrolling through his mobile. The cold light of its screen illuminates his face from below, glancing across the elegant ridge of his brow. He glances up when I step inside again, languidly inquisitive. ‘You’ll need more blood from now on, won’t you?’ A small furrow appears on his forehead. ‘Yes,’ he says, tone hesitant. He mentioned not three minutes ago that he would recruit more thralls to help watch over Katy; it’s not a difficult inference to make that he might need more sustenance on a more sustained basis. I just stand there, waiting for him to explain. ‘I was planning on supplementing my diet with mortals,’ he eventually admits. Though he’s looking levelly into my eyes, his expression is carefully blank. There’s something
The next couple of weeks are exhausting—so exhausting, in fact, that I table my plan of trying to have a conversation with Canus. He’s slippery, and I’m both tired and distracted. Scintilla and I have been taking turns watching over Katy. We’re usually accompanied by thralls now, at least one at any given time, so it’s less dangerous. Still, though, it’s a lonely prospect; thralls aren’t very good conversationalists, and I haven’t seen Scintilla for more than minutes at a time since we first discovered Claudia’s scent trail in Katy’s stairwell. It’s been a little more than a fortnight since then, and we’ve encountered no less than three instances of other scent trails appearing suspiciously close to various places that Katy likes to frequent. Scintilla finds one scent trail in one of the hospitals where Katy works, though two storeys above the unit where her shifts are normally scheduled. Scintilla describes the scent as masculine but clean, like sandalwood and snow. It’s not a descri
‘You have to turn her soon,’ I tell Canus after we return to the estate and I allow him to drink from me for the second time tonight. ‘I can’t last like this.’ He licks his lips, a flash of scarlet sweeping away a streak of crimson that had marred the pale stretch of his bottom lip. I watch the movement, so mesmerised that I almost startle when his lips part further and he says, ‘I will. I plan to ask for permission at court this Sunday.’ Even vampire lords like Canus need the Prince’s permission to add to the vampire population of a city, though for Canus it’s more of a formality than anything else. I make a plaintive face at him. ‘Why didn’t you ask last month?’ We could have avoided all this mess if we’d managed to turn Katy immediately after discovering Claudia’s scent. His gaze suddenly turns cool and assessing. ‘Are you questioning me?’ Once, I might have quailed, but I no longer fear his potential discipline, so instead I say, ‘It’s me you’re drinking a double helping from.
Canus’s decision, as reluctant as it is, seems to please Scintilla. She thanks him and leaves the room, giving me a brief smile on her way out. Meanwhile, Canus begins to explain what I’ll need for court tomorrow. I tune him out, however, listening instead for Scintilla’s footsteps to fade out of hearing. ‘…not greet anyone else with any deference, as you—’ ‘Sire,’ I interrupt quietly, ‘did Scintilla give any other reasons for not going to court tomorrow?’ Canus blinks. ‘Hasn’t there been a suspicious lack of foreign scents lately? She claimed she would be a better guard. Her sorcery has been improving drastically in the past month or so, and she’s always been better at physical combat than you.’ ‘Oh, right,’ I say. ‘If I may, Sire, I’ll see you in the evening? I just remembered that Katy changed her schedule a little, so I need to tell Scintilla about it before she turns in for the morning.’ ‘Have her help you pick out appropriate clothes, then. I’ll instruct you further in etiqu
Canus stares at me, expression unreadable. There’s the soft wet sound of his throat working, then the barest snick of his lips parting. ‘How much do you…’ he begins to ask, but trails off without finishing. The silence stretches on for a long time before I take pity on him: ‘Remember from my human life? I’ve gotten flashes. When we first met in the café, some of the dinner parties you hosted. That time you took me to a conference in Rome.’ For a moment, I can almost remember the taste of rooibos tea, smell the warm scent of freshly baked lemon cake, see the glitter of the Tiber river at noon. He lets out a soft breath. ‘The early days, then.’ He sounds relieved. I realise that I’d been wrong about something. ‘Why don’t you want me to remember more?’ As much as he’s still in love with Aura, he’s also terribly afraid of her. He shakes his head, refusing to answer. ‘Have you gone back to your flat again?’ ‘When would I have had the time?’ I return. Actually, I mostly haven’t gone ba
The court receives our company with polite smiles and a careful façade of respect. By virtue of their stations, Chryseus and Canus are able to directly approach the Prince, who looks aged in a way that only vampires can. He can’t have been more than twenty when he became immortal, but, at first glance, nobody would ever realise it. There’s a strange sense of fatigue, of parchment fragility, that is utterly incongruous with his youthful appearance. I pay more attention to his features this time around. His hair is blond, paler than Canus and less saturated than Chryseus, and his eyes are a fathomless green. He shares a nose and a mouth with Canus, and the shape of his eyes are identical to Chryseus’s, down to their long eyelashes in dark blond. All three of them have similar jawlines and eyebrows, and they share, too, an eerie beauty that I begin to suspect is a vestige of their dhampiric heritage. Most immortals are attractive, of course. For one, most vampires go out of their way t
I give a Canus tight smile before slipping away, ducking out the nearest exit before anyone else can think that I might be free for conversation. The hallway is sparsely populated by thralls, who I ignore as I quicken my pace, drawing on my blood to attract the shadows around me in a shroud of near-invisibility. Chryseus didn’t leave that far ahead of me, but he’s out of both sight and hearing, so I have to rely on the trail of his scent. There’s a noisome mix of vampiric scents all around, but his ozone and tobacco combination is familiar to me. The more I tune my senses to it, however, the more a small part of me wants to revolt. It’s a visceral reminder of that night everything went wrong, more so than anything else I’ve encountered so far—even sparring with Scintilla isn’t as much of a trigger for those unpleasant memories. Chryseus doesn’t go far, ducking into a secluded room that I vaguely remember as a spacious parlour. He’s closed the door, however, so I can’t follow him ins
The crowd near me has thickened over the past little while, and Chryseus meanders as he makes his way through, a circling vulture in a room of winding reptiles. I perk up once it becomes clear that he’s planning to talk to me, acting as flattered as anyone else might be when singled out by such an important man. ‘Lord Chryseus,’ I say, standing up and making as if to bow. He waves a hand to stop me. ‘Please, not on my account, my dear. After all, we’re practically family.’ I giggle obligingly. ‘I wouldn’t want to presume.’ ‘I thought I’d keep you company for a while. It’s very negligent of my brother to leave you here all on your own, and on your first night, no less.’ He sits down, not in the nearby chaise longue, nor in the three-seat sofa perpendicular to me, but directly next to me in the loveseat itself, the spot that Canus vacated only a short while ago. I tense automatically, and he seems to notice, moving back a little. ‘It’s my own fault,’ I say. ‘I forgot to go hunting