Page 34 of House of Royals

“Fair enough¸” Jasmine concedes.

“You may have never claimed the name,” Markov interjects. “But the blood runs through your veins, nonetheless.”

“It’s true,” I agree. “It seems that family and blood are everything here.”

“Here, families are not always born of blood, but earned through blood,” Markov says darkly.

“Now, now, Markov,” Jasmine chides. “Let’s not scare the poor woman.”

“How old are you?” Markov asks, ignoring Jasmine’s invitation to be quiet.

I hesitate in answering, not eager to give too many details away. I have to play this situation with my cards held close. “Twenty-two,” I respond because I can’t think of how it can hurt me.

“Time is ticking.”

And I’m afraid I know exactly what he’s saying.

We drive for ten minutes and pull onto a dirt driveway, much like Ian’s. The air smells murky and wet. We’re back in swamp territory. I look out the front window. The moon shines bright and full behind what looks to be another plantation style house.

Elijah Conrath’s home. Before he was killed.

“I thought this was once a plantation,” I say as I observe the standing water and the decrepit trees rising from the muck. “Now it’s a swamp. How did that happen?”

“Curses are one of those things not only found in fairytales and horror stories,” Markov says.

“You mean witches are real, too?” I ask. I’m calm on the outside, but internally, I’m freaking out. I’ve barely gotten my head around vampires—I think witches might send me over the edge.

“If they are, they’ve kept themselves entirely hidden for all of time,” Jasmine says. “Witches, the universe, karma. There is something out there and it has a wicked sense of justice.”

This is an entire story, huge and complicated, but we’re almost to the House, and my attention is focused to it.

As we pull closer, I see that this house is not like my own.

The white paint is peeling and falling from the walls and pillars. A tree looks like it has taken over the north side of the building. There are branches poking into several broken windows. The porch looks like it is sagging and half ready to collapse. Black streaks lick here and there, evidence of the fire that happened more than a century ago.

The House is shameful in more than one way.

The limos park in the front, the doors open, and the vampires file out.

Someone opens the grand but dirty front door. The entry was once majestic, but the marble floor is cracked in multiple places. The chandelier is missing crystals. And the entire place is dark because the windows have been covered. Soft lamps glow here and there, and I’m sure they’re lit for my benefit.

Two attendants stand in the entryway and take masks and jackets as the House members hand them off. In this House, I’m sure they are not just human. Bitten, no doubt.

We file into a library, one similar to Henry’s, but with half the books and only half the shelves still in tact. The place looks like it survived a hurricane and was only partially cleaned up after the storm.

“Welcome to the House,” Jasmine says. Just like a queen, she settles into a grand, yet comfortable-looking chair. Her skirts billow around her, and Teddy wanders over to sit next to her. All she’s missing is a crown. I don’t doubt she has one somewhere. “It might not look like much, but it’s ours.”

“It’s…lovely,” I say. I sit on a chair and watch as all eight members stand or sit around the room.

“We all know your name, so it seems only fair that you know ours,” she continues. “This is Micah Washington,” she says, indicating the man who hovered so close to her all night. He stares at me with coldness in his eyes. “You spoke with Trinity Dalton.” The nose-ring girl. “And Markov, obviously.”

A smile forms on his wrinkly face and he winks at me. I’d never even considered that there would be old vampires, but you resurrect at whatever age you die. Markov has to be at least seventy and totally cruel and bloodthirsty.

“These are the Kask brothers, Christian and Samuel,” Jasmine continues. It was Samuel who had asked me to dance. He smiles at me and gives a totalhow you doin’?nod. He sits close to me, uncomfortably so. Christian has a coy smile on his face like he’d love nothing more than to drain me dry. “And Anna Burke.” The woman in the suit nods to me without a smile. She looks like she could rip anyone limb from limb without even breathing hard.

“This is Lillian Summers,” Jasmine introduces the beautiful woman with the short hair and the incredible dress. “And Cameron Miller.”

The stoner kid who told me how hungry he should be. Huh. He’s a surprise. More like a druggy than a vampire.

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