Page 10 of Tempted By the Vampire Prince

A drunkard in a sailor’s cap tra-la-la-ing down the lane stumbled into my shoulder, knocking me off balance. I nearly ripped my wand from my pocket and shot a spell at him, but when he tipped his hat to me, I took pity on his inebriated state. He was singing a song that everyone around the crowded port city seemed to be singing.

“Come back again, little goddess, little goddess,

Come back again with the tide,

For the sea grows cold and the harbor grows lonely,

Since the night you left us behind.”

When I strolled through the city this morning, the dockworkers sang it while hauling nets. When I went to purchase a piece of fried cod to fill my growling stomach, the merchant was whistling it behind his cart. Even the lantern-lighters along the quay were humming the chorus under their breath as they went about their work.

The song was haunting me nearly as much as my mother.

Everyone in Valemer seemed to be mourning a goddess I’d never heard of.

As far as I understood, there were only two gods and two kinds of magick: moon magick from the Goddess of the Light, Diana, or dark magick from the God of the Underworld, Damien.

Della chirped at me from her perch on my shoulder, and I rolled my eyes. “I don’t care about some lost goddess. The only thing we need to worry about is finding a buyer for one of these relics.” I patted the magickal pocket inside my soaking wet bodice where I kept them hidden.

They hummed against my fingertips the moment I touched them. The vibrations had become so constant over the past three weeks that I only noticed it when it spiked. Like they had tonight, when the Duke had wrapped his arms around me in the water, it had been so shocking that I’d slapped him in the face, thinking him some water demon who owed my mother a favor.

Della nipped at my earlobe.

“Stop doing that!” I whispered angrily.

I knew she was still glaring at me as I rounded the next corner, where music from several different taverns had people dancing in the streets. Staying above a busy pub wasn’t ideal, but every semi-respectable place was full due to Maris’s festival. Still, I couldn’t deny that I liked how rowdy and full of noise it was.

Della sank her talons into my shoulder as a cart piled high with oyster baskets rattled past us. “Don’t you dare,” I told her.

I continued through the streets until a brick tavern came into view. The large sign out front read, Widow Martell’s Pub. Approaching the stoop, which was littered with cigar ash and empty glass bottles, I lifted my chin and pushed open the heavy wooden door. Even though the whole place smelled like sweat and cheap rum, I’d been to seedier establishments on my journey across the Unified Territories.

Sailors and pretty girls were packed shoulder to shoulder along the bar while a fiddler in the corner played the same tune I’d been hearing all morning.

Come back again, little goddess, little goddess…

Except… the song didn’t sound so sad inside this place. The energy in the tavern had a magick of its own. Couples danced between the tables while drunken men stomped their boots along with the beat. Someone whooped when a serving girl nearly dropped a tray of foaming mugs.

Inside a pub like this, I wasn’t alone, and yet, at the same time, I was absolutely singular. I wasn’t anything to anybody. Nothing more than a hazy memory. And that’s exactly what I wanted.

The door slammed shut behind me, and heads turned. I supposed I looked out of place, even in a port city. With my black skirt, dripping red hair, and the white raven on my shoulder. Well, if they wanted someone to gawk at, I’d give them a show. With my shoulders rolled back, tits out, and the fitted military jacket of the High Sea Lord draped over me, I strode into the bar—the ridiculous little gold tassels hanging off the shoulder boards shaking with each step.

Someone stopped mid-drink to stare. Others pointed. “Get that lass a drink!” another shouted.

I exchanged a sideways glance with Della as a small glass filled with amber liquid was shoved into my hand. It smelled sweet yet sharp, burning the inside of my nose in a way that reminded me of the cauldrons of apple whiskey we used to brew at home.

The relics hidden inside my bodice vibrated against my skin, sending waves of powerful dark magick into my body. I couldn’t tell if I was channeling Torment, Dominion, or Ruin, but I reasoned it didn’t really matter. Power was power. All around me, men and women raised their little glasses, grinning wide enough to show off mouths full of gold teeth.

“To calm seas and loud nights!” they all shouted. Then tipped their glasses back in unison and swallowed the liquor.

Instead of doing the same, I hesitated. Raising the glass to my lips and holding it there. Something told me not to entertain it. I should set the cup down and retreat to my room. Having this much demonic influence begging to be let out could only lead to bad decisions. But after weeks of endless travel, culminating in chasing my mother’s ghost into the harbor and nearly drowning, I was done being the dutiful daughter. Especially to a woman who had destroyed our family in a single night because she couldn’t stomach who inherited my grandmother’s magick.

For a split second, the cemetery flashed in my mind. I didn’t want the memories to come back. I wanted to drown them. So I tipped back the shot of liquor, but the burn of the alcohol barely touched the painful, throbbing hole in my heart.

I slammed the empty glass down on the bar. Pairs of eyes lingered hungrily on me, as if I had become the most interesting woman in the bar. “Another!” I shouted.

Cheers went up as a tavern maid poured more into my cup.

“That’ll be a copper, hun,” she said.