Her apartment was on the other end of Golden City, but there were hours until sunrise, and besides, she’d always enjoyed walking.
Keeping to the shadows, she let the darkness running through her veins trickle from her fingers. She strolled down the streets of Golden City slowly, letting the symphony of the night caress her ears as she moved. It had snowed earlier, and the sidewalks were still dusted in the white substance.
Streetlights created pockets of illumination, but she didn’t need them. The shadows were her home. Mortal women didn’t walk the streets of Golden City alone. It was asking for trouble—not even the Representatives and their families were that stupid.
But Jelisette had no reason to fear. She practically wished forsomeone to try and attack her. She would relish the opportunity to destroy them in a physical match before draining them of their blood.
Unlike in the past, when vampires lived in the Northern Kingdom of Eleyta, and they ruled all the humans around, there werelawsin the Republic. Rules and regulations meant to stifle and oppress vampires.
No longer could Isvana’s children find blood from any Source—willing or not.
Now, they had to get consent. Not only that, but the Representatives had decreed that if a vampire lost control, they would be tried for murder.
Just last year, Dominica Leblanc had been tried and found guilty of killing a pair of teenage elves when she lost control of her feed. The Chancellor had personally laid down the ruling: she would spend the rest of her life in Black Prison in solitary confinement. Apparently, Dominica was supposed to be happy they decided not to stake her.
It was gods-damned ridiculous. After all, vampires were blessed by the gods. They required blood to survive. Regulating the source of their life was ridiculous.
Unfortunately, there were no vampire Representatives. It was a vast oversight, especially considering that every other species in the Republic of Balance was represented on the Council, including the fae. No one was looking out for the children of the night.
Maybe one day, Jelisette would do something about it. She’d like to knock the Representatives down a few pegs. They were always so high and mighty.
She turned right, walking down Main Street. She passed the statues of the High Ladies of Life and Death. Shrouded in green and red markings that ran over their entire bodies, the two elves were forever immortalized for their work in restoring the balance to the Four Kingdoms.
Jelisette had almost reached the end of the block before something tickled her nose. The scent was barely there, a mere hint beneath the city’s perfume, but it called to her. The moment she smelled it, her shadows thrummed in her veins. She turned slowly, sniffing until the smell grew even stronger.
There.
Cinnamon, pine, and shadows. Her fingers slippedinto her pocket, and she felt the button. She’d kept it on her ever since the meeting on the lake. It was silly since Jelisette wasn’t an emotional vampire, but she couldn’t bring herself to part with it.
WasEShere, in the Central Region?
She had to know. Tucking the button back in her pocket, she turned to follow the scent.
CHAPTER 2
That was Rather Impressive
Emery Sylvain had been minding his own business, strolling down the snowy streets of Golden City, when a whisper of magic tickled the back of his neck.
Instantly, he perked up. Not all vampires could sense when others used magic, but this was his particular gift from Ithiar, the god of blood.
Someone—two someones, actually, judging by the magical signatures wafting around them—was trailing him. A bold move on their part. Emery wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. His wings were out, the black appendages heavy on his back as he strode through the street. Shadows curled at his feet. Power radiated from him, as it had from the moment of his Making nearly nine centuries ago.
It amused him that someone dared follow him. They didn’t know who he was, of course, but they would find out soon enough.
Emery walked through Golden City, and his pursuers never left. They weren’t very subtle, whoever they were. They stalked him down the main city streets, through the shopping districts, until he reached the edge of the governmental sector.
Emery skirted that part of town. He had no desire to go in there and deal with the Representative bastards who ran this country.
Though he moved normally, pretending not to hear the dual sets of footprints behind him, he paid careful attention to his surroundings.
In this part of the capital, there were no residential buildings. Industrial structures surrounded him on all sides, tall silver and glass buildings reaching for the sky. Unlike the endless sand dunes in the Southern Region, where Emery had grown up, the city structures screamed “man-made.”
At first glance, Golden City was beautiful.
The silver and gold contrasted with the glass and aluminum, a testament to the industrial revolutions the continent had undergone since the fae had migrated from the Obsidian Coast to live on their continent. But when one looked closer, cracks appeared on the golden surface.
Refuse filled the alleys between buildings. Unhoused elves, fae, shifters, werewolves, and humans were on street corners and in parks. Lower classes struggled, and food banks often had lines going down the sidewalks. Poverty existed in Golden City, and no matter how much the Representatives tried to hide it, it showed.