Vampires Realm Prophecy 01 - Child of Light

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    Valentine glanced across at Prophecy as they walked through the streets of St. Petersburg. A delay on the train had thankfully meant they’d arrived in the dead of night. His gaze dropped to the marks on her neck, his marks. They weren’t deep and they were far from what he’d wanted to do to her. In the heat of the moment, he’d considered so many things, but she’d trusted him not to hurt her, and every one of them would have been painful to some degree. She’d given him such a vision through her blood that she’d opened his eyes to the way things were rapidly becoming between them. It had felt so real that he knew she hadn’t made it up somehow. They were destined to be together.
    When she’d passed out in his arms, he’d thought it was his fault and then he’d noticed that she’d healed his wound while he was drinking from her. With him taking her blood and the magic stealing every spare ounce of her strength, it was no wonder she’d fallen unconscious. She’d given so much just to heal him physically and emotionally. He didn’t know how to thank her.
    He stopped dead and looked at her. She turned, frowning.
    “Something wrong?” she said.
    He shook his head and pointed at the building behind her.
    “I don’t speak Russian.” She smiled at him, a brilliant one that made him wonder how she could find something to really smile about. She was in a strange land, on the brink of a war, but she was still smiling.
    Did he make her smile? Was he the reason she looked so happy? He hadn’t done anything that he could think of. He remembered her words on the train. She’d told him that he couldn’t leave her and that she couldn’t do this without him. Was his just being here with her enough to make her smile?
    He frowned. She wasn’t going to like this one bit then.
    “I booked you a room.”
    The smile faded from her face.
    “I don’t understand,” she said and stepped towards him. “What about you?”
    He looked along the empty road to the square just beyond it. “I have a room at a different hotel.”
    “Why?” There was a note of hurt in her voice that cut him to the core.
    He closed the gap between them and resisted his desire to touch her cheek when he saw the look in her eyes that said she didn’t know what she’d done wrong. She’d done nothing wrong. He didn’t want it to have to be this way.
    “We have to be somewhere tomorrow.” He put his hand into his pocket and produced a small card. Handing it to her, he waited for her to open the envelope and read the invitation.
    “This is madness, you know?” she said once she’d taken a good look at it. “You expect to walk in there with no one recognising us?”
    He turned the card over for her. She read it and still looked sceptical. He smiled at how cautious she’d become.
    “But why do we need to stay at different hotels?”
    “We need to remain separate. That way there is less chance of us being detected. Tomorrow evening, go to the place across the road. You see it?” He intimated the dress shop.
    She nodded.
    “Arrangements have been made for you to be attended to after hours. Choose whatever you want to wear. The ball is being held at the Venia’s palace. My contact has left details for you at the reception desk in the hotel. A car will pick you up at eleven thirty outside the hotel. The first dance is at midnight. I will meet you there.”
    “Why are we going to this?” She still didn’t look convinced.
    He placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. “I must meet with someone and I want you to be there, just in case, understand?”
    “Is that the only reason I’m coming along?”
    He shook his head. “I thought you might enjoy it.”
    He turned her around and walked with her to the door of the hotel. Producing another slip of paper from his pocket, he handed it to her.
    “Use this name to check in,” he said and waited for her to nod. “Until tomorrow then.”
    She went to go in but paused and looked over her shoulder at him.
    “Anything I want to wear? Price doesn’t matter?”
    He had to smile at the twinkle in her eyes. Cornelius had once told him that women loved dancing and they loved being given the chance to dress up. He had to admit that it was true. Prophecy’s reserve about going to the ball was beginning to crack now that he’d offered her the chance to buy herself something to wear.
    “Money is no object.”
    “No particular colour or style?” She gave him a little