Page 33 of Cruel Destinies

“I used to think there had to be others like me,” I said distantly, recalling my first time at Heritage Prep.

I’d hoped back then to find other like-minded vampires. That was the entire reason I’d joined Hadrian in the first place. But if they existed, they never revealed themselves.

My mind returned to the present and I realized how dangerous my words were. If any of this got back to Hadrian, I’d be in trouble.

Turning around, I looked up at her. “Listen, all of this...”

She shook her head quickly. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything. You’ve actually given me a lot to think about.”

Shock struck me to my core. Most Initiates would’ve jumped at the opportunity to climb the ranks, even if it meant stomping all over others to get there. I didn’t entirely trust Piper not to—she could simply be giving me false hope. But it was hope. And that was something I lacked a lot over the years. It felt good to consider that out of all the vampires and potential-vampires, I may have influenced one in a proper way.

“You’d better hurry to the trophy room,” she reminded me.

I nodded, staring at her for a moment longer, then bounded down the stairs.

Increasing my speed, I passed floor after floor, feeling the air parting around me. It brought a sense of freedom amidst the confines of the vampire fortress.

That freedom soon dissipated as I slowed down to a walk on the main floor of Heritage Prep. Hadrian’s trophy room loomed across the Great Hall, and it seemed like an invisible rope was tied around my waist, reeling me in.

Hadrian was across the way, just outside the door to his trophy room, but what shocked me was the person standing in front of him. A boy—no older than nine or ten—gave the vampire leader a hug at his waist, then quickly ran toward the stairs that led to the lower levels.

A sweltering anger simmered inside me. Hadrian had his hooks inside an innocent little boy? What was he playing at?

“Who kept you?” the vampire leader called across the room, breaking me free from my spell of anger.

A jab of fear went through me like a copper dagger, causing me to freeze in place. Had Hadrian somehow heard my conversation on the stairs? I silently cursed myself for being stupid enough to confide in Piper out in the open.

Hadrian’s arms unraveled and his hands came forward, fingers outstretched and palms up. “Joplin? Bach? Tchaikovsky?”

Relief pulled the stabbing fear away, and I grinned. “Mozart today. TheTurkish March, to be specific.” No longer frozen, I moved toward the doorway.

“An excellent piece, to be sure,” Hadrian said, nodding his approval. “It has a bouncing pace that makes one want to go out and change the world.”

“Indeed it does.”

As I made it to the arched doorway, Hadrian placed an arm around my shoulder and walked us into the trophy room as if we were best of friends—suspicion and caution instantly sizzled across my chest.

“Julian, it’s good to see you again,” Hadrian said. “Here, take a seat. We need to talk.”

We both made our way to Hadrian’s desk. Hanging on the walls surrounding us were body parts of different shifters from throughout time, mounted as Hadrian’s prizes—trophies from countless fights he’d won.

Hadrian sat, and I followed.

“How was Alberta?” I asked, at least somewhat interested as to how it involved Hadrian’s grand plans.

“This time of year?” Hadrian laughed. “Cold and snowy. But I didn’t request your presence to discuss how my trip went. I want to hear about yours.”

An unsettling panic crept like a spider crawling under my skin. I had purposely gone back to Chicago while Hadrian was busy in Canada with the intent of getting away from Heritage Prep for a time. I’d even had the chance to see Shea briefly, for which I was grateful. I’d gotten to clear some things up with her.

But what frightened me was that Hadrian had just returned and had already heard about my absence. Maybe Hadrianhadasked Piper to retrieve me and inquired about my dealings then.

“Your recent trip to Chicago,” Hadrian clarified.

I kicked myself for not immediately answering, but the fact that Hadrian knew I’d been in Chicago made that spider-like feeling in my body increase exponentially. I hadn’t told Piper where I was going, so how did Hadrian know where I went?

“Cold and snowy,” I replied, attempting to mask the panic flooding my chest. “Much like Alberta.”

Hadrian threw me an insincere smile. “Would you mind explaining to me why you went back to your home?”

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