Page 30 of Bloodgrove

“Come. We must greet our host,” Elodie said, drawing him from his thoughts.

Even now, heads continued to turn along their path—faces that were not quite right. Some were unsettling because their families had married too closely for too many generations, but most bore the marks of magic. Will still lacked the words to describe them. Their pompous, absurd clothing heightened the effect: broad standing collars and puffed sleeves, thick gold chains and strange, towering hairstyles. Anyone in the Capitol would have given this society a wide berth.

“Do not stare. Do not speak unless spoken to. And do not disagree with him,” Elodie hissed.

A dais had been erected at the far end of the ballroom. Red carpet gave way to cushions, and a canopy with heavy tassels stretched across the platform. Beneath it, a group of people crowded around the figure at its center. The Red Hand. Will recognized him without an introduction; power seemed to bleed from his very pores. And yet his appearance overwhelmed everything else. His body was immense, his chest rising heavily beneath a loose purple garment, while his pale face bore the traces of chronic pain carved deep into his expression. His thick arms rested on cushions as servants dabbed at open sores where his skin had split open. He looked like he was melting—his entire form, his skin, even his hairless head.

Only his eyes remained clear.

And cruel.

Will almost failed to notice the three people surrounding the Red Hand until it was too late. A young, half-naked woman lunged at him, stopped an arm’s length away when the chain around her throat snapped taut. She strained against it with bared teeth and wild eyes, clawing through the air in an attempt to reach him. Vampires—all three of them.

Will stumbled back a step, but Elodie stopped him. “Your Excellence, it is an honor to be welcomed into these halls again.” Her voice sounded polite, a smile resting on her lips, but Will heard the hardness in every syllable. Her fingers dug into his arm like claws.

At once, the vampires lost interest and slumped back into their places at the Red Hand’s feet.

“Elodie, my child. It has been too long. Let me look at you.” His voice sounded like grinding stones, bubbling deep in his throat as though his lungs were filled with water. He crooked a ring-covered finger.

Elodie hesitated. One heartbeat. Then another. At last, she released Will’s arm, climbed the three steps to the dais, and sank onto the cushions beside the Red Hand. She never took her eyes from him, nor did her smile loosen.

“Your father recognized the potential in you from the moment you were born. And now you are one of the vultures circling my rotting body.” Will could not tell whether it was meant as praise or a threat. The Red Hand smiled as Elodie did, but the expression never reached his eyes, whose greed could not be disguised as warmth.

“The vultures are still circling,” Elodie said.

“I awaited you sooner.” His hand closed around her fingers, swallowing them. Will felt the urge to intervene, but the three vampires lifted their heads the moment he shifted his weight.

“My father held on longer than expected.”

“Hmm…” The Red Hand appeared displeased. “And what of these rumors about an emotional outburst at the opera?”

“Eric provoked me.”

“Eric has officially begun the contest for my succession. He killed two of your rivals—with his chimera, in full view of the entire Senate. Impressive.”

“That was my doing.”

“And yet he receives the credit!” The Red Hand struck her across the face. “Excuses. Weakness. You disappoint me.”

A hiss stopped Will from taking another step toward the dais. Something was wrong here. Elodie, despite her provocative gown and war paint, sat like a doll amid the clouds of her skirts. She endured this man, who spoke as though they were family, looked at her as though she were meat, and struck her as though she belonged to him.

“Uncle…” The word slipped from her lips, and Will saw her regret it immediately.

“Perhaps Eric is the better choice if something so small makes you weep. He fights for what he wants! I see his hunger and ambition every day!” The Red Hand seized Elodie by the throat and forced her closer, making her brace herself against his vast belly while he breathed into her face. “Your father and I gave you so much. You have spent your mourning year playing princess. Shameful. You are weak.” His breath grew shorter and his words less distinct as his lungs began to gurgle.

“I will kill you,” Elodie hissed so quietly that Will could barely hear. “I promised you then, and I will keep my word. But I will not merely destroy you. I will destroy everything you stand for.”

Will went pale. How could Elodie attend his ball as a guest, lie half across this man, his hand around her throat, and still speak to him that way? Will respected her for it, because everyone within earshot could see that her body was trembling with disgust and that the Red Hand savored every inch of the contact.

“Good,” the Red Hand rumbled at last, forcing Elodie a little closer. “You will fail. You will become one of my little vampires—either while trying to gather enough power, like your father, or after I defeat and subdue you myself.”

“I would rather die,” Elodie spat.

“Or that.” He laughed, his entire body vibrating. “You vultures will have to tear my office from my still-warm hands.”

“I would say we could simply wait for you to die at any moment, but I refuse to give you that satisfaction. No, I will defeat you.” Elodie curled her lip. “You stink.”

The Red Hand grunted, but released her. Then his gaze fell on Will. “And what do we have here? Come closer, boy.”