A Shade of Vampire 80 A Veil of Dark - Bella Forrest Page 0,56

Some nocturnal birds pecked at a tree trunk somewhere nearby. Other than that, I found nothing but peace and tranquility. The house itself was simple but elegant, made of solid wood and erected on a tall stone foundation.

“One of my brothers built this fifty years ago,” Kalon said as he guided his brother up the wooden stairs. His hands were tied behind his back, though I knew he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try to escape. “Simmon. He’s a couple thousand years younger than me.”

“Ansel is one of the younger siblings, right?” I asked.

Kalon nodded. “And obviously the dumbest.”

It didn’t get a reaction out of Ansel, who just stared ahead as Kalon unlocked the main door. We walked in, and Kalon set his brother aside to light some of the wall sconces. As soon as I could see properly, I found myself fawning over this place. It was the epitome of cozy, with hardwood flooring and rounded beams crisscrossing the ceiling. Iron chandeliers hung from above, crowded with candles, which Kalon lit one at a time.

The sofas in the lounge area were big and plush, with woolen throws and embroidered cushions galore. There was a massive fireplace on the eastern wall, too, though there was no need for a fire on such a warm summer night. Every single object in this room had a story to tell, I realized. Candleholders and trinket boxes, glasses and ceramic mugs and bowls… each different, brought from different corners of the world. The anthropologist in me found it hard not to observe the design details that set them so fundamentally apart while pointing out their varied provenances.

“Simmon uses it more. He comes here after a long journey,” Kalon said. He took Ansel upstairs, where more lights came on. I heard a door lock click, followed by Kalon’s footsteps as he joined me downstairs again. “Everything you see here was gathered from various trips. The ceramics are mostly of Rimian origin. The boxes and crystals are Nalorean. And, of course, lots of other souvenirs from across our continent,” he added, pointing at a wall which had been covered with different wooden masks and bas-reliefs, all painted in different colors.

“It’s wonderful,” I breathed. “I bet it’s amazing as a vacation spot.”

Kalon smiled, settling on one of the sofas. “We hunt here, as well. It’s one of the few times we settle for animal blood.”

“I suppose you hunt for the thrill of it,” I replied, imagining him running through the woods outside, stalking his prey, then pouncing and claiming his kill. I could easily see Kalon as a hunter. I’d yet to meet Simmon and the rest of his brothers, but I hoped they were all at least marginally brighter than Ansel, who’d let himself get drawn into this Darkling mess.

“Solely for the thrill. The blood isn’t all that tasty.”

I chuckled. “I can imagine. Especially since you’re all accustomed to Rimian and Nalorean blood.”

His smile faded, watching me as I stood next to the sofa, just a couple of feet within his reach. We were alone in here, and, for some reason, that made my heart beat a little bit faster. This was the most privacy the two of us had ever gotten since we’d met.

“I’m sorry, Esme,” Kalon said.

“For what?”

“For my brother. I honestly had no idea he would do something so stupid.”

I believed him. The shock I’d seen on his face upon discovering Ansel beneath the Darkling mask had been painfully genuine. “It’s okay. You really don’t have to apologize.”

“I just don’t want you to think I’m a Darkling, too. I swear to you, I’m not.”

“I know.”

His gaze darkened, and he got up, suddenly towering over me. “How do you know?” His voice was burning hot and raspy, but it made my skin tingle, as if someone had left a window open overnight. “How do you know, Esme?”

I had no words, just scattered ideas jumbled in my head. I wanted to tell him about my instinct, about how he’d proven himself to me so many times. He’d saved my life when Zoltan had attacked me. How could he be a Darkling, if he’d been nothing but good to me? Me. A complete stranger, while his brother was tied up, in a room upstairs. I wanted to say all these things, but I couldn’t form a single coherent sentence.

All I could do was gaze into his cool blue eyes, swimming in that endless Arctic sea until I could no longer move or breathe. “I… I just