"Anna who?" Chloe asked, attacking yet another cupcake. She'd been stuffing her face since the start of the party at Catherine's house. And no wonder—she was eating for two. One and a half? Or maybe just one and a peanut at the moment.
Diana hadn't heard anyone mention Chloe's pregnancy, which meant that the woman had either kept the news to herself, or just shared it with Levi. She bet on the first option. Levi didn't seem freaked, or overprotective, like Diana believed he would have been if he'd known that his mate was carrying his child. Levi was on the other side of the vast hall, chatting with Sylvan, although his eyes frequently returned to Chloe. He may not have noticed the difference in Chloe’s scent yet. It was barely perceptible. If he’d smelled it, there was no guarantee he’d linked it to pregnancy. Diana had figured it out because her mother had explained a sweeter scent was the first sign they could detect when they were expecting children, as vampire women didn’t get any periods. She doubted male vampires were given the same sex-ed pep talks.
Most—if not all—of Oldcrest had been invited to this tea party. Everyone but the wolves, it seemed. Diana had heard enough of what had occurred between the pack in the Wolvswoods and Avani to know why they weren't hanging out with everyone else. Fortunately, the Stormhales’ Greco-Roman manor was vast enough to fit twice as many guests.
"Russell," Cat, seated straight, with her legs crossed, on an armchair opposite Diana, replied. She nodded solemnly at Diana. "The world wouldn't be the same without her."
Chloe sighed, turning to Gwen, Greer, then Blair, who shared her blue velvet sofa. She entirely bypassed Alexius, though. "Is it just me, or does it feel like those two have their own language?"
Diana rolled her eyes, helping herself to another scone. "She was the Duchess of Bedford, sometime in the nineteenth century of the last era. She attended court, but every afternoon, she got dizzy and weak. She'd sneak out to her room and eat some cake or light sandwiches. Then her lady friends found out and figured it was a wonderful idea. And Afternoon Tea was born."
Gwen lifted her pink and gold china cup high in the air. "To Duchess Anna!"
They echoed the nonsensical toast to a human woman long turned to a pile of bones, and kept munching and drinking the very best tea, perfectly brewed just at the right temperature. Catherine Stormhale was a hell of a hostess.
Though she remained with them, Diana saw her eyes surveying the entire room like a hawk. Whenever teapots and plates emptied out, she tilted her chin to Bash, who dutifully left Levi and Sylvan's sides to serve refills.
“You'll have to tell me how you trained your mate. I could use a pointer or two,” Avani said, earning herself a little nip on the earlobe from Alexius at her side.
Cat grinned wickedly. "Oh, I'll pay for his help later." Her heated gaze told everyone just what she'd promised to earn Bash's waitering services.
Diana shook her head, half amused. Another part of her was borderline envious.
She'd never seen so many mated pairs in one place, not even here back in the old days. When she was young, most couplings on the hill were arranged to further the families' power, not for affection's sake. Sexist as the time had been, men had more of a chance to pick their partners, but women had little choice. Hell, even she had been promised at the time—to one of the Beauforts. Those bondings—not marriages, but partnerships established based on contracts—were typically sealed one or two years after a vampire was first turned, as the first few months were spent adapting to their new lives. Both of Diana's parents had died shortly after she was made, and none of the Helsings left had managed to bully her into sticking it out, so Diana had escaped that unappealing prospect.
Matings, or even affection between couples, had been rare back then.
Sexism was a strange notion among vampires. Human males could technically overpower their women, and barbarians that they were, they had used it to their advantage throughout history. A female vampire, however, could be as physically strong as her male counterpart, yet they'd still stuck to the notion that women were somehow subjected to their patriarch's rule. Well, come to think of it, it had been the same in matriarchal families such as the Stormhales. Perhaps it had little to do with sex, and more to do with age. Those betrothals were established early, when the fledgling was too young and dependent on their parents' goodwill to dare speak out against their decisions. She wrinkled her nose, disgusted by the memory.
How things had changed. There were only four of the seven families living on the hill at the moment, and every single one of them was mated, with the person fate had chosen for them. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that women had an actual choice nowadays.
Over the rim of her royal blue and white teacup, Diana spotted a disturbingly familiar figure entering the dining hall. She couldn’t help a sigh. Damn if he wasn’t pretty. No, pretty didn’t work, masculine as he was. He was downright gorgeous.
Mikar was generally dressed in dark clothes that blended in with the darkness and were easy to move in. Today, he wore blue jeans and a mauve shirt that looked like it would be silky to the touch. It outlined his hard, defined arms and torso, open at his throat and on his narrow hips.
In the three weeks since she'd arrived, Diana had noticed a pattern: he donned dark clothes most of the week, and once or twice, something a little more casual, and with a keen, if a little classical fashion sense. He dressed like that on his days off guard duty. That explained why he hadn't arrived glued to Chloe’s side. Chloe was under Sylvan’s or Ruby’s supervision today.
Mikar moved to Levi and Sylvan, joining their conversation, but his eyes roamed around the hall, looking for something. Chloe, no doubt. His eyes fell on Diana and held her gaze. Diana's instincts told her to look away, but she didn't. She met the strength of his stare, daring him to let go first. Finally, he smiled and looked back to Sylvan, who was asking him a question.
Diana grinned at her cup, glad to have won that round.
"What's up with you two?" Chloe asked her.
Avani choked on her cucumber sandwich and coughed it up.
"Who?" Diana's innocent timbre was a little too high-pitched.
Greer snorted at her. "If you think we didn't notice you two dancing around each other, you're delusional. Some of us are just too polite to ask." She lifted a pointed brow at Chloe, who pouted.
"But I want to know!" Chloe sighed dramatically. "I've been close to Mikar for months, and he's never even shown a vague interest in anyone. Everyone's hot here. You'd think he'd at least acknowledge it. I look at Cat's eyes a lot. And her hair, too. And Greer's eyes. And Gwen's mouth. And…"
"And you're clearly bisexual," Alexius muttered.
"Like the rest of you aren't," she shot back. "Hard not to be, when surrounded by model-worthy sups."
Alexius shrugged, admitting she had a point.
"All I'm saying is, I spend most of my days with Mikar and he has never given anyone a second glance. I thought he was, you know, asexual, or something. Then, you come along, and he can't stop staring. But neither of you seem to be doing anything about it." She seemed more frustrated than Diana was. "Come on, spill."
Diana sipped her tea, not saying one single word. Chloe growled. Everyone else around their table laughed.
"What did I miss?" Levi asked.
Diana hadn't heard or seen him approach—or Sylvan, for that matter. Either because they were sneakier than she'd given them credit for, or because her attention had been on Mikar. Him, she'd seen strut across the hall. He moved like a predator, too smooth, silent, and graceful. She could never look away.
"Diana is mean to me."
Levi immediately glowered, until he noticed the general laughter. Then, he guessed, “Did you happen to have asked a highly personal question and been ignored, by any chance?"
He definitely knew his mate.
Chloe redirected her ire to him. "Whose side are you on?"
"Currently? Diana's."
Chloe smiled sweetly. "Sounds to me like you don't like sex anymore.”
His grin reached his brightening eyes. "Yours, darling. Your side, always."
Chloe stuck her tongue out at Diana. "There."
Diana laughed, not just because these two were ridiculously sweet. She laughed at herself for her idiocy. For having thought the worst of this girl simply because of the blood in her veins. She hated prejudice, and yet she'd fallen for the anti-Eirikrson propaganda hook, line, and sinker. It was no wonder that the rest of the world was so ready to believe her to be a monster, too. The Eirikrsons’ horrifying reputation was long established.
She liked Chloe. She liked all the residents of Night Hill, actually—and even their visitors. More than that, she loved being here, in her home, away from the pollution, surrounded by magic. She could be herself in Oldcrest. No one needed her to sheathe her fangs when they popped out in order to feel safe.
For all that, it didn't change the fact that she couldn't stay. Not for good. Not when everyone here was engaged in a fight that wasn't hers. A fight she still didn't know much about. She would have to go on her way.
She'd told herself that most days for the last three weeks. And for some reason, she was still here.
Diana looked out the window, to the lake stretched out at the feet of Night Hill, and beyond, to the cliffs and reddening sky.
Soon. She'd leave soon.
Bare Hands
When he was still human, long ago, Mikar's people used to fear the long nights. The cold was a death sentence to all if the harvest wasn't good. One particularly harsh winter had been far worse than the others. Not only were they all emaciated, dying of hunger, but sickness had spread through the land. Now, with his modern understanding of medicine, he knew it had barely been more than a common cold, easily spreading in a time when basic hygiene hadn't been anyone's priority. But the lack of food and remedies had made it deadly all the same.