A Bite's Tale Part 6

I dashed inside my house and locked all the doors and windows. Did vampires have to be invited in? I thought they couldn't be out in the sun either, but he'd just proved that idea a myth.

Exhausted from the stress of the vamp's visit, I flopped onto the sofa. I'd probably sleep very well.

Chapter Seven.

Remy I knew everyone who pa.s.sed in and out of our castle to meet with my father, but this was the first time I'd been included in one of his government meetings. One day, I'd take my father's place - I could live forever, but a sorcerer would only live a few centuries - and I needed to know the inner workings of our country. Well, unless someone murdered me and staged a hostile takeover before I inherited the throne. Ugly thought.

My father motioned for me to sit next to him. I cleared my throat and moved to obey.

Stop staring at your feet and lift your chin, Remy, Dunston's voice boomed silently into my head. Straighten your shoulders and stand tall. Make eye contact with a couple of them, then take your seat. When your eyes meet, you should never be the first to look away. That's a sign of weakness. One day, these men will answer to you. Now is the time to demand their respect, before you need it.

I inhaled deeply and gathered my inner strength. Dunston was right. If I lost the respect of the king's advisors and top officials, I had no hope of ever taking control. If anything happened to my father, I'd be dead before he was buried. What would become of our peaceful island then?

Remember, Dunston added. We don't know where the threat is coming from. The traitor could be one of our own. Don't trust anyone. Not until we can rule them out as traitors.

I made my way through the conference room, down the length of the oversized table, toward the only empty chair. Out of my peripheral vision, I noted that every single person was staring at me. Five men and three women. I picked the man next to my father and kept my gaze on him. He finally looked away as I sat.

One down. Seven to go.

An hour later, I suppressed a yawn and decided I could live the rest of my life without another meeting like that. They had covered security problems at the airport, a lawsuit at one of our hotels, a murder at one of the vamp bars and a string of robberies on the east coast.

When I thought I couldn't bear it anymore and my eyes had glazed over, the men began to rise.

"Thank you, gentlemen, ladies. Remain seated, Remy." The king nodded at each of them. When they'd all left, he turned to me and smiled. "Nice job, son. You handled yourself very well."

"That was Dunston," I said, leaning back in the chair and hoping I didn't slip into a coma. "Always advising."

"His specialty. Now, about the ball." He raised an eyebrow at Dunston. "All the girls on the island will be there? You've seen to it?"

"Everyone is confirmed and eager, except one young lady who is giving me some difficulty." Dunston chuckled softly. "I'm sure she'll see things my way."

"Good." The king turned to me. "You will be gracious to every single one of them. Make sure you're well fed, so you're not tempted to feed off any of your potential brides. Plan to do a lot of dancing. It's a fine way to see what a girl is made of."

I pushed back my shoulders and sat straighter. "Sure. I'll be there and I'll dance. But you can't make me marry any of them."

"You, young man, have no say in the matter," he hissed, then swiveled in his chair to face Dunston. "Anything new from Intelligence?"

Dunston leaned back in his chair and swung a leg up to rest on a knee. "As you know, the letter came from somewhere on the island. I had the lab collect samples. So far, we've found traces of soil that we've narrowed down to a five mile radius of the castle. And we have some DNA. We just don't know to whom it belongs, but it's clearly werewolf."

"That's not helpful, since the island is overrun with the beasts." My father grimaced.

"Beasts, Dad?" I shot him a look. "Don't be prejudiced. You, of all people, with your endless lectures on how we're all equal."

He sighed. "Point taken. Except that it's the werewolves who are after my throne. Let's not forget, it was one of their pups who almost killed you."

I could never win an argument with my dad, not when he used reasoning like that. Still, I knew there were many good werewolves out there. Though Cinderella had lost control and hurt me, I knew she was a good person. Or werewolf. She couldn't be the only good one.

"What did the letter say?" I asked. We were in interesting territory now, so the fatigue deserted me.

My father's eye twitched. "Nothing important."

I scoffed. "Which is why you have men doing CSI stuff. Because it doesn't matter."

Dunston glanced to his king and waited for his nod of approval before turning to me. "The letter said that I've upset the natural order and will be punished. That I shall pay for my sins with my life."

"The note was to you?" I asked.

"It was addressed to me, yes," Dunston answered.

"I don't understand." The natural order? Dunston had mentioned it the other day. That I was meant to be human. "You think I'm the sin they're referring to?"

Dunston nodded. "We believe so. A second letter came today, advising me to rectify my mistake or they'll do it for me."

I blinked. "The only way to undo it is to stake me or cut off my head."

The lights above flickered and my eyes shot to my father. I'd only seen him this angry one other time. When my mother was murdered, my dad's fury had caused a tsunami. Thankfully, no one on the island had been killed, but we'd lost a few trees and several buildings.

"It's ironic that werewolves are angry with us for turning the prince into a vampire, yet it was one of their own who nearly killed him and made it necessary to save him," Dunston said.

He wasn't helping me in my struggle to get them to accept Cinderella, but I saw no point in arguing with either of them, for the moment.

"Maybe if they knew why you turned me, they'd back off," I said.

"They want power," my dad said. "I believe this is just an excuse to make war on us, a way to get rid of me."

"I don't know," I said. "I can't believe that all werewolves are bad. We have some on staff here and they've proven themselves loyal."

"As far as we know," my father added.

"At this time, we can't trust anyone, Remy," Dunston said.

I ignored that and left my chair to pace the conference room. "We can't demand saliva swabs from them and every werewolf in the area, unless you want to make these letters public and scare everyone on the island. It could cause unprovoked attacks on werewolves. I can help though, maybe get samples from the staff. You know, when they leave a gla.s.s around."

My father nodded his approval. "Excellent. Between the three of us, we might come up with something. Meanwhile, Dunston, have the men continue following other leads."

"So the ball isn't necessary," I said. "We can still cancel it."

"Absolutely not," my dad said.

"But-"

"Remy, we will proceed as planned. It isn't up for discussion."

"So your solution to the problem is to throw a big party where anyone can come?" In a flash, I stood in front of them and glared. "Just make it easier for them to waltz in and take me out, Dad."

His jaw clenched. "We will not put our lives on hold for terrorism."

"You will be perfectly safe. Security measures have been taken," Dunston a.s.sured me. "Guards will be watching you at all times and we're doubling up on the cameras, which, of course, will be monitored closely."

"Like I haven't seen a million movies where the bad guys find a way to get whoever they're after. Cancel the ball."

"No. The connections we will make that night are too important. We can handle the terrorist."

"And what if the terrorist is one of your connections?" I threw his own words back at him. "Then what? Too bad for me? You'll bury my body in a gold casket and say I died for my country?"

"We've been dealing with threats for centuries," Dunston said, rising from his chair to go toe-to-toe with me. "We'll handle it, just like we always do."

"Whatever." I stormed out and slammed the door.

Fifteen minutes later, Dunston found me in the library. Books had always been my sanctuary. This time, I found my solace in photo alb.u.ms of my mother.

Dunston remained silent, watching as the seconds ticked by. He knew I was aware of his presence. I had no plans to speak first. I refused to give him that.

"Remy."

I kept my gaze on a photograph of my mother holding a baby, me, in her arms and smiling at the camera. She looked so pretty, so alive. I wondered if I'd meet the same fate - murdered, because someone had a vendetta against the king.

"We can root out the culprit or we can live in fear. But whatever we do, it will not involve cowering. We will not lie awake at night waiting for them to come. Nor will we alter our lives to accommodate them. And, very important: The first rule of staying in power is building a defense. We've done that. Next step is attack. The ball provides the perfect opportunity."

My father had stayed in power for centuries, with Dunston by his side. I needed to trust that they knew what they were doing. They'd come this far.

"Each second that we worry about you, each moment that you pull us in another direction, each time you fight us..." Dunston shook his head. "Those are the things the enemy watches for. We mustn't give them that opening. Anything we do, we must do as a team."

I sighed, knowing my father and Dunston would never knowingly put me in jeopardy. "Okay, I'll attend the ball. But make sure Cinderella is there or I'm locking my bedroom door and we both know that door is impenetrable. All the girls can dance with themselves for all I care."

"If you don't come downstairs to the ball, how will you know if she's there or not?" He gave me a smug smile.

I met his gaze. "I'll know."

"Remy..." Dunston took a step forward, casting a shadow over the photo alb.u.m. "It's been years. You probably don't even know what she looks like anymore."

I set the alb.u.m on the arm of the chair and stood. "I still remember how I felt. That's all I need to remember."

He looked away, giving me some degree of power over him. But that wasn't what I wanted from Dunston. I just wanted him to find my Cinderella. I could still picture her fiery red hair, the shape of her neck and the feel of her lips. The lines of her face had blurred with time, but I'd know her if I saw her.

If I had any doubts, I'd compare her teeth to the marks on my shoulder - that would be better than a gla.s.s slipper.

"Be a.s.sured that every female on the island will be present at the ball."

I didn't answer and a moment later, I was alone again.

Chapter Eight.

Cydney My aunt and cousins had come home giggling and weighed down with shopping bags. Apparently, a new gown required matching shoes, delicate lingerie and, of course, sparkling jewelry. Aunt Mina must have really broken the bank.

"Cydney, you have to see this." A black shopping bag with swirly gold letters swung from Beatrice's outstretched arm. "If at least one guy doesn't faint at the ball, I'll be extremely disappointed."

"Mine's not too bad either." Winnie beamed.

I set my calculus book on the coffee table and rose from the sofa. "Good to know it's not just girls going to the ball."

"Yeah, well, one guy and a zillion girls would be awkward, don't you think? Come upstairs and see what we got." Winnie zipped up the steps behind Beatrice.

"I'll be right there," I called after them.

Gavin hadn't moved a muscle from where he'd plopped near me on the sofa.

"What's up with you?" I asked.

His eyes held a vacant look for just a moment before he focused on me. "That was a low point in my life. If they ever make me shop with them again, I'm running away from home." He popped off the sofa, stomped up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door a moment later.

"He was a good sport." Aunt Mina suppressed a laugh and followed him up the stairs, keeping a noticeable distance from me.

I locked the front door, then caught up with my cousins in Beatrice's room. She was such a girly-girl, which was emphasized by the pale pink walls and lavender lace curtains. They'd already laid out their new clothes on her velvety purple bed.

Beatrice held a periwinkle-blue dress to her chest. "Isn't it gorgeous?" She peeled off her t-s.h.i.+rt, then seemed to vanish while she slipped into the dress. Seconds later, she emerged to tie the straps of the halter top around her neck. The front dipped so low, I wondered how she'd gotten it past Aunt Mina.

"It... might be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." I reached out to touch the silky-soft fabric. "Did your mom see this on you?"

"Yes," Beatrice squealed. "She threatened to have it altered. I told her if she didn't buy it for me, I'd use the money I saved from my allowance to find the most horrible dress I could find, just to embarra.s.s her."

I laughed. "Wow. Blackmail works with Aunt Mina. Who knew?"

The dress fit her so well she practically glowed. I could see her in my mind's eye being swept around the dance floor by some hot guy, maybe even the prince. Or Wolf Boy.

"Check this out." Winnie held up her own dress. "It's not as daring as hers, but it's pretty. Don't you think?"

"Oh, Winnie." The straps were narrow, but it didn't reveal much below her collarbone. The lavender satin slid between my fingers and I let out a small sigh. "It's absolutely lovely. You'll be so beautiful."

c.r.a.p. Now I wanted to go to the ball. I stifled the longing. Pretending to be someone else - someone normal - wasn't my style.

They spent the next few minutes showing me their accessories and discussing which hairstyle would look best. At that point, I knew I had nothing to offer. The last time I wore makeup was... I couldn't remember. When I last saw Jack, probably.

"I need to talk to Aunt Mina. But first I'm going to check on Gavin to make sure he didn't tie his sheets to the ceiling and kick the chair out," I joked.

"Poor Gavin." Winnie snorted.