2

Eli stirred. A bright light glowed red through his closed eyelids. He opened them and stared up at a familiar swirling, carved pattern, the King’s emblem, on an alabaster ceiling high above. Red glowstones bathed the room in scarlet light.

The infirmary.

He sat up and rubbed his sore head. The room stayed still, and the pain was tolerable.

“Good, you’re awake,” said a female voice.

He glanced to the side of the bed he lay on.

Lady Ana looked back at him, her amber eyes glittering with relief. “I was afraid you’d have to miss the celebration. How do you feel?”

Eli sat up. He was still a bit light-headed, but could keep his balance well enough.

“Better,” he said.

He glanced at Lady Ana, Ron’s daughter, a countess—and his best friend since childhood. She shone in a sparkling gown of violet and blue, with her golden-brown hair piled up and glittering with gems.

“And why aren’t you there, dancing away the night in some nobleman’s arms?”

The scales on her face darkened, and she dropped her gaze to the floor.

“Well, I had to come make sure you were okay.”

Eli swung his legs over the side of the bed and made to stand.

“No, no, sit down!” She tugged on his arm.

“But I cannot sit in the presence of such a fine lady.”

“Oh, shush.” Ana snorted. Still, she let go his arm.

He stood, stretched to his full height, and saw something glittering in the corner of his eye. “My blues.” He snatched his robes from the chair in the corner.

“Your dad brought them,” Ana said. “Just in case you were awake for the celebration.”

Eli swung the robes over his shoulders.

Ana rushed to fasten the clasp at his neck.

“Many thanks, milady.” Eli offered his arm.

She took it and beamed at him.

He beckoned to the doorway. “Shall we?”

They wound their way through the palace halls and arrived at the celebration in the grand ball room a few moments later. The ball room was a long, sparkling white hall lit with towering mosaics of glowstones arranged to form the images of kings past.

Gentle melodies brushed against their thoughts as they approached the entrance. Ladies in vibrant dresses swirled past as they stood beneath the carved arched doorway, and the men, their ruffled tunics and pants no less colorful, nodded slightly in their direction as they danced.

“Announcing the honored Guardian Eli and his guest, the Lady Ana.”

Those dancing paused and bowed.

Eli took Ana’s hand and led her into the crowd.

“You owe me two dances tonight,” Ana said.

Eli raised an eyebrow. “Why is that?”

“You didn’t dance with me at the last ball.”

“I didn’t?”

Ana shook her head.

Eli spun her under his arm. “Neglectful of me.”

They danced in an amiable silence, for which Eli was grateful. His head still retained a bit of fog. He needed all his concentration to glide from step to step.

“I see you made it back.”

Eli rolled his eyes as they danced past Dom.

“And you didn’t even bother to greet your king.”

“Hi.” Eli swept Ana in a wide circle, away from Dom and closer to the glowing alabaster walls.

“That’s all I get?” Dom followed him, moving his partner around the other frilly couples on the floor.

“I’d like to be left in peace, if you don’t mind,” Eli retorted. “I’ve had a rough night.”

“So I heard,” Dom said with a sniff. He winked at Ana as she stepped around Eli, in time with the rhythm of the melody.

She blushed.

Eli frowned.

“You have a worthy partner, Lady Ana.” Dom spun his partner away and dismissed her with a wave. “But even worthier is the king’s company.” He bowed low, his royal chains glinting in the light, and gave Ana his most charming smile. He looked up through dark lashes at her.

Not this again.

Eli tugged on Ana to pull her back into the dance, but she stood still. Her eyes flicked back to Eli’s, her lips turned up in a half-smile, and Eli heard her thoughts.

Fought over by the king and the Guardian…what more could a girl ask for?

Eli rolled his eyes at her, but her smile held. She wouldn’t desert him, and he knew it.

She gave Dom a polite curtsy and rested her hands on Eli’s chest.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. You will have to choose another.”

Eli stood tall and smirked at Dom.

Dom forced a smile, bowed, and stalked away, his rainbow colors shifting with irritation.

Eli chuckled. He didn’t know why Dom still tried to lure Ana away from him. Time after time she’d turned him down, and yet he still pursued her. Probably because she was Eli’s best friend—and the only lady who held even a modicum of distaste for Dom among all the nobles.

Ana laughed as they resumed the dance. “Works every time.”

“And you just eat it up.”

“Of course.”

Eli shook his head. “You know, you’re awfully vain.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re one to talk, Mr. Blues.”

Eli gave her a lopsided smile. He couldn’t deny it.

“Son, there you are!” Dad made his way through the dancing crowd as the song drew to a close. Ana made a curtsy, which Dad returned with a respectful nod. “Lady Ana.” He turned back to Eli and touched his shoulder. “How do you feel? When I lost you earlier…”

“Dad, I’m fine. It was a kid, that’s all.” Eli shrugged.

Dad nodded and shook Eli’s shoulder. “I know. They’re difficult for you.” He sighed. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Eli grinned. “You know I wouldn’t miss the party.”

“Come talk to the nobles. They want to hear about the Taking.”

Eli glanced at Ana.

Dad glanced at her, too, as if just remembering her presence there. “That is, if you don’t mind, Lady Ana.”

“Not at all.” Ana waved at Eli.

He winked at her and, just to outdo Dom, blew her a kiss as he turned to leave.

Ana laughed, and even as Dad steered Eli toward the nobles, Dom’s aura sparked with irritation.

Eli grinned.

The drama surrounding Eli’s latest catch continued through the next two weeks. They were fast approaching the new moon ceremony, where the human kid would be killed in the monthly sacrifice. Until then, one of the Takers would keep him tucked away in their home.

Each time Eli thought about the kid, he stifled a flutter of guilt. The kid was so young. But Cor, who’d claimed the boy, would give him a chance. He would be given the chance to become one of them. And if he didn’t, he’d suffer the same fate as every other idiotic Kar-Tog they’d ever taken.

He’d die instead of adapting to new life.

Eli knew it was the truth, and the truth rebuked the part of him that ached in sympathy.

The kid was a Kar-Tog. Eli was a Tognir. The Kar-Togs were inferior. They were lesser. Child or not, he wasn’t worthy of Eli’s sympathy. It was simply the way things were.

Added to the truth was the buoyant support of the nobles. They’d crowded around him at the party, much to Dom’s chagrin, and eaten up his story. They all knew Eli’s loss. They remembered him, 11 years old, weak and thin with grief.

“Rin would be proud to see the warrior you’ve become,” the Baron Ric had told him.

They had shared a quiet moment of remembrance. Mom’s image had blossomed in his mind’s eye, with her dark, dark hair falling over her shoulders and her eyes half-lidded and smiling as she sung him to sleep. It was safe to remember her there, among the nobles, with their hands pressed on his back and shoulders.

She was the reason he fought. She was the reason neither he nor Dad would accept failure.

And she was the reason Eli could not waver in his duties, whether the Eltana’s victim was child or man, whether or not he understood her insatiable human bloodlust.

* * *

Two weeks later, Eli sighed as he tried to push Mom’s image out of his mind. He grounded himself to where he was, in the palace anteroom, standing next to Dad in his blue regalia as they waited for the ceremony to begin.

Now was not the time for weakness.

“Get ready, son.” Dad squeezed his shoulder.

Eli glanced up at him.

Dad’s blue eyes held a familiar mix of concern and pride. He smiled.

The sacrificial knife hung heavy and cold in Eli’s pocket. He forced himself to smile back.