A Meet of Tribes (A Shade of Vampire #45)(57)

I nodded slowly, processing all that information and briefly energized by the thought that everything was starting to move along. I could see progress after a few days of stagnation. I’d been bored and restless stuck inside the mansion. I was eager to get out again.

“When are we leaving, then?” I asked.

“You are not going anywhere. You are safer here,” Draven interjected before Hansa could reply. “Only myself, Hansa, and Bijarki will be taking this trip. Mount Inon is extremely hazardous.”

A moment passed before I let out a mocking laugh. There was no way I would allow him to undermine my presence or my skills ever again. Not after everything we’d been through. He may have intended to protect me by keeping me here, but I represented my friends and my brother in this war. There was no way I’d get left behind.

“Oh no, Draven. I am coming,” I replied with the iciest tone I could muster. “Whether you like it or not, I am coming on behalf of my friends, the Oracles you intend to use in this war against Azazel. There will be no further discussion about it.”

A moment passed in which no one said anything. Draven just looked at me with his jaw clenched and an unreadable expression on his face. I could see the smirk on Bijarki’s face, and I tried hard not to grin back. Hansa stared at me, her white teeth bared in a wide smile. I had impressed her, and that made me feel good.

“We leave in two hours,” she said.

“Okay then, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go pack a bag.” I nodded politely and left.

I closed the study door behind me and exhaled. I’d made it out of there without succumbing to the many emotions rushing through me from being so close to Draven.





Vita





After Serena left, I decided to kill some time in the library. I wasn’t getting any visions—I suspected due to my inability to take my mind off Bijarki. So, I figured some reading might help instead. I pulled out a couple of books on Sluaghs and Lamias, along with a history of the incubi nation, and sat at the walnut table in the middle to catch as much of the sunlight pouring into the room as possible.

Half an hour in, I’d learned about the incubi wars from two thousand years ago when the eastern and western citadels had been established as key opposing cities of the two incubi nations, the Bals and the Kerrs. The Bals were known as proud warriors of grand military traditions, while the Kerrs were the textbook definition of democrats, leading through example and progress rather than brute force. It sounded a lot like the human world back home, where freedom and warfare clashed.

The library door opened, and I looked up to see Bijarki come in. My heart jumped, and my limbs softened at the sight of him. He smiled, and relief washed over me as he walked toward me. I straightened my back in response and smiled back.

“You’re back,” I managed to say.

He nodded and pulled out a chair to sit next to me. The closer he got, the higher my body temperature rose.

“It took me a while. There were a lot of preparations to make with the Red Tribe for what’s coming next,” he replied.

I realized then that I had missed the sound of his husky voice. My brain responded by sending millions of tingling sensations through my skin.

“Well, you’re back in one piece, which is good,” I said. “What is going to happen next?”

“I’m due to leave again in an hour. We’re going to see the Dearghs at Mount Inon. They’ve agreed to meet with us. I’ll be going with Draven, Serena, and Hansa.”

“Oh.” I nodded.

My enthusiasm quickly fizzled into disappointment. He noticed my frown and cocked his head, giving me a boyish half-smile that spelled mischief.

“I’ll be back by tomorrow, little fae,” he said. “It’s only half a day away.”

I had a hard time finding my words, which only added to the frustration brewing inside of me. The more time I spent around Bijarki, the hotter I burned. My body and soul felt helpless before him. I couldn’t speak. I was already mentally preparing myself to count more hours before I would see him again.

A few moments passed before he spoke again. “What are you reading?” He glanced at the book before me.

“A history of the incubi,” I replied, eyes fixed on the text.

He bent forward enough to scan the text quickly and make my breath hitch. His face was dangerously close to mine again.

“Ah, yes, the Kerrs.” He smiled and flipped a couple of pages.

His fingers pointed at another chapter about the allied clans of the Kerrs. I read the first passage, about the Strandh clan, one of the Kerrs’ most valuable assets in battle, according to the book. They were known for their physical prowess but also for their ingenious use of technology in combat, including different types of explosive projectiles.

“The Strandh clan.” I repeated the name, then looked at Bijarki.

“That’s my clan,” he said and bit into his lower lip.

Pride glimmered in his silver eyes. I found it enticing and nearly lost myself in his gaze. He told me about the Strandh lineage, renowned for its resilience and strategic thinking.

“My father was once a powerful general of the Kerr nation. He united the southern tribes into one citadel that later pledged its allegiance to the Kerrs,” Bijarki added. “That was, of course, before he surrendered to Azazel.”