The Wicked (Elder Races #5.5)(14)

Julian Regillus, the Nightkind King himself, had come to pay them a visit.

Sebastian’s hand on Olivia’s shoulder remained a heavy, hard presence. She could feel pressure from every one of his fingers, although when she glanced at his face, he looked expressionless.

Two of the security crew on duty stepped out of the pilot’s cabin, their faces sharp. They froze when Sebastian gestured to them. He said nothing, but just watched as the Nightkind King and his group approached until they stood at the foot of the boarding ramp.

The King looked up at them where they stood at the railing, his hands on his hips, while his people fanned out around him. From what Olivia understood from popular media, Carling had turned Julian at the height of the Roman Empire. Julian had been one of Emperor Hadrian’s most famous and distinguished generals, and now he was one of the most ancient Vampyres in the world. Even from that distance, Olivia felt his Power covering the dock in a dark, seductive mantle.

Julian’s gaze met hers and held it as effortlessly as if he cradled a glass of wine in his long fingers. What an incredible experience it would be, she thought, to talk with the Nightkind King. The things he had experienced, the vast amount of history he would remember… Although he had begun his life as a human, that was so very long ago, now he must be as different from humankind as all but the most alien of the Elder Races.

The King smiled slightly, almost as if he could read her thoughts. Life as a human had not been kind to him. It had etched itself across the rough planes and hollows of his face until he had conquered it. She wondered what tales the marks on his face told, the enemies he had fought, the pain he had endured, the victories he had won.

What would he confess to her as they talked into the night? Could she unlock the secrets of his soul, sprawled on velvet couches in front of a fire?

He was so strong yet so alone, and he needed her. She could sustain him, while he could fulfill her. Only him, only her, as the unending night scrolled on and on…

A snarl sounded beside her, the sound so violent and shocking it made her jump. She felt so disoriented, at first she could not make sense of what she heard, or why the velvet couches had vanished.

“Stop it,” Sebastian hissed between his teeth.

Olivia twisted to face the man beside her. Sebastian stared down at the King. His bold, hard face had transformed into a look of such naked aggression, she would have taken several steps back had he not held her anchored at his side with that iron, unyielding grip. His Power had roused as well, and surrounded her in sharp, invisible blades.

“I have not done anything,” the King said. His smile had widened, not unpleasantly. “She is human. Some humans react this way.”

While he spoke aloud, the darkest of voices came into her head. If there comes a time when you wish to do so, you may come to me.

And the thing that terrified her most was not that the King had issued the invitation, but that a wild desire had risen up inside of her in response to it. Shaking violently, she turned to face Sebastian and grabbed his T-shirt with both fists. He put his arms around her, his grip as hard and unyielding as his hand on her shoulder had been.

“Don’t look at him,” he muttered.

She nodded jerkily. She whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

As they spoke, she felt Phaedra’s presence rouse.

Oh no, no.

This strange, deadly scene already had a dangerous unpredictability. They needed Phaedra’s involvement in it like they needed extra holes drilled in their heads.

But something about the confrontation had triggered the Djinn’s interest, and one of the unfortunate realities of this trip was that Phaedra definitely had a mind of her own.

Olivia dared to peek in the direction of the dock, although she tried not to look at Julian directly. Black smoke poured down the bottom of the boat ramp. Phaedra’s physical form coalesced in front of Julian and the other Nightkind.

The Djinn stood directly in front of the Vampyre, her arms crossed, with long black talons laid along her biceps, deliberately on display. She had chosen to appear in her usual black, with her sleek fall of hair ruby-colored like blood, and her white, regal features wearing a haughty expression. The boat ramp was some distance down the length of the yacht, and Olivia could only see her profile, but as Phaedra glanced back up at Olivia and Sebastian, her eyes burned hot like stars.

Julian cocked his head as he regarded the Djinn, his expression sparking with something other than amusement. Every Nightkind creature surrounding him drew closer, and the atmosphere turned deadly.

In the iciest tone Olivia had ever heard from her, Phaedra said, “Vampyre, this female human is one of my associates, and she is under my protection. Do not meet her gaze. Do not speak to her, physically or telepathically. Do I make myself clear?”

Julian blurred into movement that was too fast for Olivia’s human eyes, and so did Phaedra. When they stilled again, the Nightkind King held the Djinn with one powerful hand wrapped around her throat.

And Phaedra held him, too, with one of her hands wrapped around his throat. Olivia could see that her black talons had sunk into his skin. Vampyre blood trickled from the small puncture wounds. She thought of all the Vampyre groupies, nicknamed bottom feeders, who would pay a fortune for that tiny, precious trickle of the Nightkind King’s potent blood.

“Now this has become an interesting evening,” said Julian. His rough, aquiline face had turned brutal. He and Phaedra stared at each other down the lengths of their arms.