A Ride of Peril (A Shade of Vampire #46)(45)

“I can’t say mine has been any easier. But we’ve been making great progress. I look forward to sharing it with the council,” Azazel replied.

Almus gave him a weary look. “I’ve heard you say this before, and it has always ended in heated discussions and you walking out filled with rage. Please tell me you’ve run everything through the council, as per the rules, and that you haven’t made infrastructure and legislative changes without telling us first,” he said.

Azazel’s laughter sounded tense, with an undertone of contempt. “Oh, please, Almus, as if these old fools will ever accept anything that goes beyond camp fires and burning coal! Traditionalists will be the end of us if we don’t take executive action, and you know it.”

A third door opened, then a fourth, followed by the rest, until twenty Druids, both men and women, walked in from what I assumed were the twenty planets, or kingdoms, of Eritopia. The doors were probably magical portals through which they could all meet in this massive hall. I started wondering in which kingdom my friends and I had been stranded and which of these Druids had once been in charge of it. Cooped up in the mansion for so long, it was easy to forget that Eritopia was much bigger than the small piece I’d seen on a map – that it was an entire galaxy and that we’d only seen parts of the planet Calliope, our temporary home.

The Druids all gathered around the table, taking their seats and nodding at each other politely. They smiled stiffly and made empty compliments. One of them, a beautiful blonde with hazel green eyes, passed next to Almus, prompting both him and Azazel to spring to their feet and bow with reverence. She reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t figure out who it was, until I saw the looks between her and Almus. It made sense then—her firm cheeks and the shape of her eyes, even her smile; they all echoed in Draven.

His mother.

I walked closer for a better look. She wore a pale blue dress. The silk poured down her perfect hourglass body. A large platinum belt framed her tiny waist, and a myriad of diamonds glistened around her neck and wrists. Her arms were covered in the same tattoos as Azazel, symbols of her high rank among the Druids. She sat next to Almus, but they didn’t touch each other. I had a feeling they had yet to take that step.

And judging by Azazel’s lovestruck look, she had captured the hearts of many before she married Almus.

I hung around for a while, listening in on their conversations. I successfully learned the names of all former rulers of Eritopia and the twenty Druids who controlled each of the galaxy’s planets. I learned that Calliope with Mount Agrith, the birthplace of the Daughters, had once belonged to Genevieve, Draven’s mother. It was the largest of all twenty and with the most fruitful soils, at a perfect distance from the In-Between’s sun. Azazel’s was the closest to the center of the constellation, and the third smallest based on descriptions I’d plucked from their conversations. It was called Purgaris, and it sounded a lot like a literal hell, hot and scorching. Almus’s planet, called Persea, was the smallest but a haven for Druids. It held the Grand Temple, where all Druids were taught the ways of natural and dark magic and where they received their ceremonial ranking tattoo rings.

Eritopia suddenly seemed gargantuan in size, and I felt curious enough to visit all twenty of these planets—provided we survived the impending war with Azazel. I spent a hefty amount of time around him, Almus, and Genevieve. I started to understand that he’d always been ambitious and generally unhappy with the size of his kingdom. I’d landed in the early days with this vision, when he hadn’t yet begun to dismantle the Druid society.

But he was stubborn and proud, always looking to gain more without bothering with the rules. His political and territorial greed seemed to hassle Almus and downright infuriate Genevieve, who poured herself another glass of rose-infused water and sternly reprimanded him.

“You can’t just change the military laws in your kingdom, Azazel. You don’t own that planet. You’re merely an elected official, tasked with its administration. You’re not its king, even if it is called a kingdom! You’re a Master Druid, like the rest of us!” she snapped.

“Genevieve, I meant no harm, and no harm was done!” Azazel defended himself. “I merely changed the enrollment age for the army! My incubi are all eager to train, to join my ranks and serve their land. What’s the big deal?”

“You didn’t run it by us, Azazel, and you know the council laws very well, since you’re an expert at breaking them!” she replied bluntly.

A moment passed before Azazel spoke again, his gaze softening as he looked at her.

“By the Daughters, I swear, if you weren’t so stunning I’d have a lot more to say about your council laws.” He smiled.

Azazel really did have the hots for Draven’s mother. I recognized the oafish look on his face as she ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it over one shoulder to reveal her long, delicate neck. Almus couldn’t take his eyes off her either, but his poker face was good enough to keep suspicions at bay. She occasionally glanced his way, a faint smile passing over her face.

“I’ve known you since you were a little boy, Azazel. That beard won’t fool me!” She grinned at him.

Azazel didn’t take it well, his smile dropping as he was reminded that he was much younger than the woman he seemed to love, as if it made him unfit to be with her. Truth be told, he didn’t look younger, but given Druid ages, a few centuries probably didn’t make a difference in terms of wrinkles on their kind. Most of them looked to be in their mid-thirties, and I had no skill at guessing their real ages.