“No.”
“Just as it wouldn’t do well for broodstock not yet chosen by a fullblooded mate to be with child. The vampires of Olhav choose our human companions because humans are easy, lustful, and don’t come with a past . . . such as a child.”
I furrowed my brow. This was the first I’d heard such a thing. “The women are to be . . . unspoiled?”
“Not necessarily. Being childless and, even better, chaste,doesincrease their chances of getting chosen as a vampire’s broodstock and leaving the Firehold.”
“What does Master Lukain get out of these deals? Sounds to me like he’s only losing property at that point, to vampires more financially and socially powerful than him. He plucks younglings out of difficult lives, paying scraps for their meager existence, only to build them up and sell them off to the highest bidder when they reach their fullest potential?”
“You have the gist of it. To answer your question, Master getsclout. Lukain regains his position in Olhav, slowly but surely, with every new union he creates. Each coupling of a Grimdaughter and a pureblood Olhavian builds more debt owed to him in his future.”
I tapped my chin. “He plans to call in those debts at a time of his choosing? To return to his rightful place, as he sees it, in vampiric society?”
Antones nodded, wincing. “I will not say more on our master or his strategies. I have already said too much. Most of your peers were stolen from their lives, sold at auctions, and have no agency in deciding their course. For that, I am sure you see Lukain as a monster. You’d have every right to.”
“But you don’t?”
“Master Lukain treats me well, Sephania. Before him, I was at the end of my rope. Now I am given food, board, and I become part of something greater than myself.”
Yes. Slave trading and sex trafficking. So much greater than yourself, dear Antones.My thoughts dripped with sarcasm.
Knowing all this about Lukain . . . why do I still have such trouble hating him? Is it purely because of my selfish attraction to the grayskin, or is there something deeper there? A sense of longing and belonging I have not yet filled?
Granted, Lukain was the only man I’d grown anythingcloseto intimate with over the past year. My options were sorely limited, and I was starting to think Lukain made it so on purpose by challenging me to new training sessions nearly every day.
As I walked and talked with Antones, appreciative of him opening up to me and telling me things the grayskin would never tell me himself, my feet stumbled when a jarring image played in front of me.
I kicked up dirt, freezing, as a group of people walked perpendicular in front of me and Antones in the street. The group had no less than fifteen young people in beige robes and tunics, ranging from knee-high whelps to taller children on the cusp of adulthood.
Mute vowagers marched in lockstep behind the youths, their hands tucked in the sleeves of their robes.
At the front, leading the procession, strode Father Cullard. He did not see me as he crossed the road opposite us. He walked slower now, with a more stooped gait and a longer face.
A wave of dizziness passed through me, joined by jarring memories of my time in the House of the Broken, the Diplomats, and everything I’d done since coming to the Firehold.
I hadn’t realized my leisurely once-a-month stroll with Ant had led us all the way to the southern region of Nuhav. Cresting over the buildings ahead was the impressive Temple of the True.It was the Seventh Day, which meant the entire House was going to the temple for almsgiving and prayer.
Antones noticed the shocked expression on my face and the way my legs were rooted to the ground. “Sephania, are you all right?”
Just as quickly as they had appeared from a cross-street, the procession disappeared down another road.
I blinked at Antones’ concerned features, trying to find my words past a dry throat. It took me nearly a minute before I started nodding my head slowly.
“I . . . I’d like to return to the Firehold now, if it’s all the same to you, Antones.”
Chapter 13
Seeing Father Cullard and a new flock of younglings for him to victimize fucked with my mind. For weeks after the sighting, I became withdrawn—an echo of my former self when I’d first arrived in the Firehold. Quiet, reserved, brooding.
Every few days, I’d dream of the sunflower and bloody rain in the window, with my eyes alight in the reflection like a vampire’s.
Most often, however, I had nightmares of Dimmon Plank sliding his stinking, sweaty body across mine, punishing me for defending myself and killing one of his best workers. Other dreams brought me back to that cursed window at the House of the Broken, where I spied Cullard molesting poor Sister Cyprilis. I hadn’t seen her in the procession heading for the Temple of the True, and I wondered where she was today—if she even still lived.Did she reach her sixteenth year and escape?
Guilt dealt a hefty blow to my ego and confidence during those regressive days. I’d been a coward by leaving Cyprilis at the House with her abusers. I told myself there was nothing I could have done, and I should have joined Baylen Sallow and the Diplomats earlier than I had. Then again, that situation had only taken me from a spectator of defilement to aparticipantonce I spurned Baylen, killed Jeffrith, and got locked away with Dimmon.
The city of Nuhav was an ugly, destitute place filled with hucksters, vagabonds, and criminals. Everyone preyed on those weaker than them. Houseless people deemed too unworthy or useless to hold honest professions filled the streets, and myrecent journey in the Above showed me the situation had only grown worse over time. According to Lukain, we had the despot vampires of Olhav to thank.
The memory of seeing Father Cullard and his flock dimmed over time, yet the vile emotions remained. For three months straight, when it was my turn for a surface outing, I declined the offer. My peers thought I’d gone mad—who would turn down the one day of solace and respite we received in the Firehold?
