Page 74 of Slaying the Vampire Conqueror

“The others are celebrating,” he said. “Probably not a good idea for you to join. Not that you’d want to. But if you want anything special?—”

I turned back to Naro. “No. I’m fine.”

“I have some food here for?—”

“I’m not hungry.”

A beat. Then he said, “I’m supposed to make sure you eat. If you don’t, I’ll be the one in trouble for it.”

My hand went to my chest, pressed over the strange twinge there.

I turned around again. Erekkus held out a bowl of rice and meat.

“Just take it,” he said. “Goddess knows he doesn’t want it back.”

I took the bowl from him. It was still hot—very fresh.

Atrius.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Thank you.”

“I’m not the one to thank.” He glanced at Naro again. Then back to me. His expression softened a little, like he saw something unwillingly revealed in my face.

“I know we’re… different. Vampires. Humans. But there isn’t one of us that doesn’t know what this feels like.”

“This?”

I shouldn’t have opened the door. I regretted it the moment the word left my lips.

Erekkus gave me a sad smile. “We’re used to saying goodbye to our own,” he said. “More than most vampires.”

My chest ached with a sudden, powerful clench of anger. Anger because I didn’t want to reveal that Naro was “my own” at all. Anger because, even if he was, I wasn’t saying goodbye to him.

“Thanks for the food,” I said, tightly, and shut the door.

Naro’s eyelidsfluttered open the next day, as the sun was lowering in the sky over Vasai.

The vampires were all tucked away at that point, save for those who guarded the Thorn Palace and the other key buildings of Vasai, so I’d opened the curtains. I rarely did that now, even on my own. The sun held little appeal to me, experiencing the world as I did. But Naro—he, perhaps, might appreciate some sunshine once he woke up. He had loved the sun, back in those days, even though he didn’t have the complexion for it. He’d spend the summertime sprawled out on warm rocks beyond the outskirts of the city, baking in the heat like a lizard, then peel himself off and return home bright pink and cursing at every accidental touch.

Sure enough, when his lashes fluttered, the first thing he did was tilt his face toward the warm rays of light.

Then his eyes opened more, and he turned to me.

I wished I could see him as I did then—see him with eyes, not threads. And yet, a cowardly part of myself was grateful for it. I knew if I could see him the way I had as a child, the marks of life and time would be so stark. I sensed them written all over his threads.

He’d had a hard, hard life.

His threads, beneath the twisting trembles of his Pythoraseed cravings, shivered with sadness, too.

I wondered if perhaps he saw the same thing when he looked at me. For the first time since I had begged the Arachessen to take me in, Ihad to swallow a wave of shame in response to the way an outsider looked at me—for what, I couldn’t describe.

“Vivi,” he whispered.

I should have corrected him—Vivi doesn’t exist anymore, my name is Sylina—but the words stuck in my throat. Being here, next to my big brother, made me Vivi again.

His hand, trembling violently, reached for my blindfold.

“What is…”

---