Chapter One
ARIANE.”
She stood at the floor-length window, staring out at the rolling ocean of sand that had been her home since before her memories began. Not a breath of wind moved the gossamer curtains that she’d drawn back, though she had opened the window wide in hopes that some air might clear her head.
No such luck. All she’d found was the crescent moon hanging above the same beautiful and barren landscape that she looked upon every night. Nothing changed here. Nothing except her. Not that the implications of what she was about to do didn’t make her heart ache. But she had no choice.
Life eternal notwithstanding, this place would kill her, or at least the best part of her, if she stayed much longer.
“Ariane, please look at me.”
With a soft sigh, Ariane turned away from the window and looked at the man who had entered the shadowed room. She had lit but a single candle, not wanting the harshness of the light, and it played over his concerned face, over features that were as hard and beautiful as chiseled stone.
Sariel. There was a time when she would have been honored by a visit from him. And to her chamber, no less. He had been the leader of her dynasty since it began, or so she understood, and his word among the Grigori was law. Ariane respected him, deeply. But Sariel was content with all the things that made her restless. He could accept that her dearest friend had vanished without a trace, where her every waking moment had become a nightmare of worry and dark imaginings. And she knew that while he cared, while some effort was being put into finding the missing Grigori, he didn’t remotely understand what a loss Sam was to her.
“I appreciate your concern, Sariel. But I’m fine. I didn’t expect to be chosen,” Ariane said, hoping that she was concealing her bitterness well. To have been passed over was bad enough. But to have been pushed aside for Oren, to have seen the blaze of vicious triumph on her rival’s face… it hurt in a way no wound ever had. And in her training, she’d been cut plenty.
Sariel approached, shutting the door behind him. To anyone else, even their own kind, Ariane knew he would have been incredibly intimidating. The men of the Grigori dynasty of vampires, particularly the ancient ones, all stood nearly seven feet tall, broad-chested and well muscled, with skin like pale marble. But in the dim light, he looked so like Sam that she could feel nothing but the same dull ache she had felt for a month now, ever since they’d all realized Sam was not simply traveling, but gone.
Sariel’s face belonged on a statue carved by a Renaissance master, but his beauty, like all Grigoris’ beauty, was cold. His white hair, the same shade as all ancient ones had, was an oddly attractive contrast to a youthful face. It fell to his shoulders with nary a wave to mar the gleam of it. His eyes glowed a deep and striking violet, a shade they all shared, in the dim light.
“I know you had your hopes up, Ariane,” he said, his normally sonorous voice soft. “You don’t have to pretend you didn’t. If it helps, you were strongly considered. But the others felt that, ultimately, Oren was the better choice.” He paused. “If Sammael can be found, he will be. I realize he is important to you, as he is to us all.”
The better choice. Simply because she had not been handpicked by the elders, because the circumstances of her turning had been borne of emotion instead of reason. No matter how hard she worked, how lethal she became, she would be seen as a mistake. The weakest among them. And Oren, above all, had orchestrated her being shunned for it.
The Grigori were taught that hate was a wasted emotion. But for Oren, who excelled at the art of subtle humiliation, Ariane feared she felt something very close to it. And now he had bested her again, finally taking from her something she desperately wanted.
“Yes, Sam is important to all of us,” Ariane said, trying to choose her words carefully as she turned back toward the window, the beckoning night. “But of everyone here, I am closest to him, Sariel. I think you know that. I don’t understand why we’re sending only one of our own to search for him when he could be hurt out there. He could be dead.”
It was her greatest fear, and Sariel was as dismissive as she’d expected him to be. He simply didn’t give in to his emotions. She didn’t really expect a vampire like Sariel to understand how much a simple friendship meant to her. He seemed above such things, beyond them. He was strong, unlike her; she was weakened by her attachments and her most private dreams. In those dreams, which she had never shared with a soul, she was happy, fulfilled, even loved—and far away from here.
A palace, however opulent, could still be a prison.
“Ariane,” Sariel said, affecting the air of a parent lecturing a willful child, “your concern is admirable, but if Sammael is still alive, he shouldn’t be difficult to find. We are adept at seeking as well as watching, as you know.” He paused. “Tell me, little one, is this about my brother? Or is it about your desire to get beyond these walls?”
Anger roiled deep within her at his suggestion. Of course she wanted to get beyond these walls! But her own needs paled in comparison to Sam’s… wherever he was.