Garin inhaled before continuing. “It provided me the opportunity to gain my footing outside the coven; Francis’ Law permitted the tavern there to served bottled blood, human blood, from the few willing donors. I quickly discovered I was able to feed that way without any trouble. It was only Laurent’s death that caused my return to the Mine.”
He cleared his throat and sighed again, though this time it was a sound of relief, as if finally confessing to Bastion had lifted a tiresome burden.
“Mmm. Heartwarming,” Kestrel offered blandly, as if expecting a juicer tale. “And how does this tie into the mortal princess falling into your company? Tell us… Did you kidnap her from the castle? We received news of her absence yesterday. The blue jays sing. They tell us things, you see. Her kingdom is in utter chaos. It’s wonderful. Proper job, Garin.”
Garin grimaced through a tortured smile.
It was unlike him—what she’d known of him, anyway—to appear so sullen, the fire behind his sharp quips and quick rebuttal suddenly smothered. Despite all he’d confessed, Lilac found herself wishing she could drift over to stroke the sadness from his cheek—or slap the liveliness back into him. Either, there had been more layers to him than he’d ever led on—or, he was an unsettlingly fantastic liar.
“After hearing of Laurent’s death, I knew I needed to return home. I also knew I wouldn’t be welcome without some sign that my weakness was put well behind me. I needed a blood servant, a thrall, as a front. When the princess,” he nodded toward her without looking at her, “showed up at the inn, she was disguised like any other backwoods farm girl. She was what I needed.
“I entranced her then lured her further into Brocéliande and, aside from an insignificant Morgen problem, I got her safely to our Mine. I caged her in my chamber, and after she fell asleep, she’d begun to dream vividly. She spoke of her mother and father, and how she would soon ascend to the throne. I then realized her true identity. I drifted to sleep, planning to inform Bastion the next day.” He pursed his lips, feigning frustration with himself. “She escaped before I awoke. I was outside searching for her in a grotto when your Fae guards found me. They then had me track her scent.”
With every word, Lilac sunk a bit deeper into the floor—or so it felt. He was lying. For himself. And he’d made her sound like an insubordinate in the process.
Their time in the Mine had revealed a tender, different side of him. She realized with a sinking feeling that she’d probably revealed more of herself to him than was wise. She should have known better than to trust his kind. Vampires lied and manipulated for personal gain; his inability to feed had made him seem safer to be around, which, apparently wasn’t the case at all. Her heart beat unevenly against her ribcage.
She shouldn’t have been as shocked as she felt, so she swallowed it. Every pair of glittering eyes except Garin’s bore into her soul. Lilac teetered on her heels; sick dread pushed against her like an invisible gale.
“Who bit her, then? Was it your brother, since you are unable?” Kestrel inquired, noting the contrast between Garin’s grey eyes and Bastion’s deep red ones.
“It was a stray.”
“A rogue vampire?” Bastion looked as incredulous as Kestrel. “But how?”
Garin gave an uninterested shrug. “Probably an outsider,” he lied again. “Or maybe someone’s mistake. I intend to look into it.”
It was hard to tell if any of his half-truths held water with the faerie leader, and Garin was courageous for lying outright to him considering what Lorietta had said back at the inn. She’d implied that the vampires and the Fair Folk had at times worked closely together, but under that pretense, it seemed they were more reluctant servants than anything.
Kestrel whistled as he treaded closer to Garin. Smiling, he gripped the vampire’s chin and lifted his head, turning it this way and that. “Your story rings of truth. As such, I understand you were not willingly harboring a criminal—to your knowledge, at least. You are forgiven. Instead, I believe I need to congratulate you and your brother.” He stepped back and bowed extravagantly, first to Garin, and then to Bastion.
“Congratulate us on what?” Bastion snorted.
His cloak flapping behind him, Kestrel whirled and stalked toward Lilac. He filled her vision in an instant. She instantly retreated, only to brush against