Chapter 5: Discord - Hunger & Harmony

Glitter is officially a permanent fixture in my hair. I’ve come to accept that no amount of shampoo will get rid of it, even if it’s been over twenty-four hours since opening night. I was woefully unprepared for the stray glitter bomb coming from who knows where when we left the venue.

The kickoff was successful, despite every bump in the road. It was a blur just getting back to the company building. Exhaustion hit me like a tour bus, and thankfully, we didn’t have to get onto one until tonight.

Lorelai said it’d be my first and final “break” until the tour’s end. I spent the whole time sleeping and dozing in bliss. Even though I wanted to go over opening night, Viola was too busy for my word vomit. Until she’s available, I’ll have to hold it all by myself.

Tonight, we leave for Gravemont. Eleven hours north means goodbye to coastal warmth. Over the next few weeks, we’ll be stopping in each region of Aurea. Sure, I’ve never thought to visit Gravemont, but I won’t say no to any adventure.

A sparkle catches my attention as I approach the meeting room, and I cross my eyes to locate where yet another fleck spawned onto my hair. I even took precious time to do a loose braid today, just so it’d be out of my way!

I’m pulling the invasive species out of my bangs when my body suddenly meets resistance. It sends me and the glitter to the carpet tiles.

“Oww,” I whine, immediately rubbing my poor butt and hip.

Only to pause when I spot the long legs in front of me.

Today, Niko is all clean lines and casual luxury. Even someone with as little fashion sense as myself can recognize how expensive that brand of joggers and the watch on his wrist are. Instead of black, he opted for a white tee. Seems dangerous for a blood drinker.

I gawk up at him. Not that he’s acting like he even noticed me. The only indicator he has is immediately turning his back when I pick myself up.

“Are you—” I start, not getting any further when he cuts me off.

“It’d be good to not be late.”

My brows furrow.

“Uh . . .yeah. Kind of why I got here five minutes early.”

“Then why’re you still standing there?”

Have I gone nuts? Or is he seriously standing in my way and acting like I’m the nuisance?

“Maybe because you’re blocking the way?”

Silence. There’s no way he isn’t noticing the very door we’re both going to directly in front of him.

I cross my arms, willing my mouth to stop twisting in amusement. It’s just us in this hallway. The usual office buzz hasn’t started yet, given it’s still before noon. It’s like starting at three in the morning at a human company.

“Niko . . .”

“Address me as ‘Your Majesty’.”

He’s not asking, and his tone prickles like a sunburn.

Pausing, I blink at his broad back. So, he’s gonna play it that way? I haven’t even seen him since the concert.

“Oh, right,” I deadpan, already tired of this. “Can we go in?”

It’s unfair how my body zings when his muscles ripple in annoyance. Too bad about his pretty face, because I’m having a hard time enjoying it with his sour attitude.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

I glance around, wondering if the charcoal, paneled walls or the vintage art prints have any clues for why he asked that.

“Huh?”

“What did I just say?”

“You asked if I’m forgetting something.”

A hiss emits from his between his fangs.

“What am I forgetting?” I ask, hands on my hips and foot tapping. “Especially that’s more important than⁠—”

“You’re forgetting my title.”

I’m pretty sure my jaw is in the parking garage.

“You want me to address you properly when you’re the one in the way?”

My breath catches when he sharply turns, in my face so fast that I’m forced to stagger backwards.

“Always address me properly,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

His burgundy eyes narrow in hostility, but I can see the exhaustion lining them. When my gaze lingers, it’s obvious just how weary he is. From his posture to the faint tremor in his hands, it looks like he hasn’t had a moment of rest this whole time.

“Are you okay?”

He flinches as if I slapped him. That’s even more concerning. Behind him, the door begins to open.

“No, seriously, you don’t look so good,” I say, taking a step forward. “Can I get you anything?”

His expression becomes neutral. Almost too much so. Before he can even respond, Ryel speaks from behind him.

“We’re starting, Your Majesty.”

Niko doesn’t even acknowledge him. He lifts a finger at me, the blood-red guitar pick necklace glinting furiously.

“Juice boxes like you should know your place.”

Stunned into silence, I can only watch as he whips back around and stalks into the room. Ryel’s mouth curves in satisfaction as he follows. I grit my teeth, clinging to my primary goal of freedom at this forsaken job to keep calm.

I should stop being nice to him. If Niklaus Vane, king of vampires, leader of Arteria, and technically my boss, wants to make an enemy of me, then so be it. He said it himself. This ‘juice box’ will definitely not be offering unsolicited help to him ever again!

Uncurling my fists and releasing a breath, I then breeze into the room. By the time I sit next to Lorelai at the far end of the meeting table, I barely even care. Who even likes their boss? Mine just particularly sucks.

I suppress a giggle at that thought.

All of Arteria and a couple of other crew members are here. Selene stands at Niko’s right side at the end of the table. Ryel sits to his left, the giddiest smile I’ve ever seen glued to his smug face. Ezren‌ sits stone-still and quiet as a mouse to the right. The windows are covered, warm lamps countering the blackout curtains.

My mind wants to wander to goofy vampire insults as Selene speaks, but I catch the most important things. We’re leaving right at sunset and will travel throughout the night. It’s a sharp turnaround to be in time for the next show.

“We won’t linger,” Selene then says, and a few hums of agreement sound.

Implying danger? Or bad blood in Gravemont, at the very least? It seems I’ll have to find out for myself, as she’s already wrapping up the meeting without elaborating.

“We’ll see everyone at six o’clock.”

Niko is up and out the door before anyone else. Not that I’m keeping tabs as I gather myself.

“Check in with me before four-thirty,” Lorelai says. “I expect everything to be taken care of.”

I salute her.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Waving as she leaves, I then reach into my pocket. Before I can take out my work phone and get started, a lanky shadow casts over me.

“Hey,” Ezren mumbles. “Do you have a minute?”

We end up in the break room, a carton of apple juice and an AB blood pouch between Ezren and me. He drums his fingers on the table, and I wait expectantly.

“Sorry, I just . . .”

He’s been starting and stopping for almost five minutes.

“Take your time,” I assure him.

I think we both know why he looks so torn up. He’s pouting like a kicked puppy.

In a burst of resolve, he reaches into his bag on the floor. Before I know it, something soft is shoved into my hands. A cotton shirt?

“I feel awful,” he says, forehead hitting the table as I observe what he gave me. “I know it’s not a good enough apology, but I didn’t want to be empty-handed.”

The stark black Arteria logo against sky-blue tie-dye puts a smile on my face.

“You made merch?”

He sits back up, eyes shining hopefully.

“Before we got an official supplier, I was the only one who did,” he says, fidgeting with his hands. “I had some supplies, and Lo said your favorite color is blue.”

Funny. The first piece of merch that won’t get banished to the trash is for a rock band. My smile widens.

“Thank you, Ez.” I hold the shirt close. “I appreciate it.”

He returns the smile weakly.

“I don’t think I can make up for scaring you like that.”

I shrug dismissively.

“It’s okay, I’m⁠—”

“It isn’t,” he says, voice shaky. “I put you in a bad situation. On opening night, no less.” His head hangs. “All it proves is I have no self-control, and the guilt isn’t ever going away.”

Did he mean to whisper that last part out loud? I hesitate, gripping the soft shirt tighter when I notice a tear drip onto the table.

“Shit, I’m making it worse.” He roughly wipes ‌his face. “Sorry, Cadence.”

I frown at him, but not because I’m upset.

“Is it wrong to try to show the human within the monster?” he asks, so quietly I almost can’t hear. “Is it wrong to hope he’s still there?”

The human within the monster. My mind wanders back to the first day we met. Lorelai seemed to get under his skin, and her comment had everything to do with humans.

Was Ezren once human? Not that I know the particulars of vampire customs or etiquette. Am I allowed to know about these things?

“Ez . . .Did you react that way because of something in particular?”

A flash of pain twists his expression.

“Because I’m here,” I say, meaning it. “I’ll listen.”

Sure, he’s a mischievous flirt most of the time. Out of everyone here, though, I’d say he’s my closest ally. Maybe even a friend.

“Well . . .”

An overhead light flickers. His bottom lip wobbles. Tears well up in his eyes, and he takes a sip from the pouch before he continues.

“I’m not a pureblood. Plenty of vampires nowadays aren’t. I just got unlucky . . .and then more unlucky.” He takes another sip. “I’m originally from a small town, closer to New Lure.”

That’s almost as north as you can get. New Lure is known for its shiny skyscrapers and vibrant luxury, but quiet suburbs and forests surround the metropolis.

“I’ve always loved music, but that wasn’t practical. So, I resigned myself to taking over my family’s post office and keeping my artistic dreams on the side.” He laughs sadly. “Funny, right?”

“What happened?” I ask softly.

His spare fingers drum on the table. The whir of the heating system kicks up above us.

“I didn’t know a damn thing about the supernatural, let alone vampires. When I heard a singer who’d been growing in popularity was coming to New Lure, me and a couple of buddies went. I mean, of course. I was twenty-three in the sixties. What else were we going to do?”

A singer growing in popularity . . .Does he mean Niko?

“My fate took a turn that night. Hunters launched a surprise attack on the musician, but we humans didn’t know what the hell was going on. I really thought I was some kind of hero.”

His grip on the pouch tightens enough that a few drops dribble onto the table.

“Maybe I was. Everyone made a run for it, but I took a direct hit for His Majesty. By the time I woke up, my heart wasn’t beating.”

Without thinking, I rest a hand over his. His teary eyes flick up to meet mine.

“That’s not the worst of it,” he says, and my stomach twists.

“You don’t have to say,” I whisper, but he shakes his head.

“I became a target. Not only was I turned, but Hunters were well aware that a fledgling had foiled their best shot at killing the last heir to the throne.”

His hand turns in mine, and he’s suddenly holding onto me.

“Cadence . . .They didn’t go after me,” he whispers. “I was reckless, foolish even. I was lucky to earn His Majesty’s favor, right? The best outcome of a shit situation. I assumed since I was safe, it’d be fine. But it wasn’t. My siblings . . .”

My heart sinks as he continues.

“Twins. Bright and hilarious . . .The greatest kids, much better than me.” A smile touches his lips. “Eloise and Edward Black were doing the family proud.”

His shoulders shake as he rasps the awful truth out.

“I didn’t know . . .How could I have known that Hunters have more tricks up their sleeve? I didn’t understand what a glamour was.”

Neither do I. As he continues, the horrifying pieces fall together.

“I never turned them! The twins weren’t vampires. Yet, veiled in this fucking . . .glamour, they paid the price . . .Touted as ‘double trophies,’ taken out like a game.”

Tears escape down my cheeks as I take both of his hands into mine.

“I should’ve been there. I should’ve protected them! They were powerless . . .”

It’s not just grief scarred on his heart, but guilt. The exact look on his face echoes from opening night. I swallow my own sob.

“It was decades ago, but I still see every new face as a threat. Especially when they don’t feel . . . normal.” He sniffles and releases my hands to wipe his face again. “And you never felt normal. You still don’t.”

I chew my inner cheek, not sure what to make of that.

He exhales slowly, even if his lungs don’t need oxygen anymore. His stormy irises return to their usual emerald.

“But I won’t do that again. You’re not a threat,” he says with a resolute nod. “You’re something else. Something good.”

I blink at him twice. A small smile brightens his face.

“Don’t tell Ryel I said that. There’d be a stake driven through my heart before we got to Gravemont.”

We share a quiet giggle. The air eases, and I can breathe again.

“Thank you,” I say.

“Hm?”

“Thank you for sharing your story. You don’t owe me that much explanation, but it helps.”

His hand finds the back of his neck, and he shrugs.

“Ah, well . . . A good assistant should know the ins and outs, right?”

It’s good to see his ease return.

“Speaking of, I’m keeping you from your duties,” he says, the chair scraping as he stands. “No more, uh . . . what you folks call ‘trauma dumping’ from me tonight.”

“More to come, then?” I tease, and he raises a brow.

“Maybe after we address your weird back-and-forth with His Majesty.”

He snatches the blood pouch and zips out the door before I can whine at him. I scrunch my nose at the space he used to occupy before looking down at the homemade merch in my hands.

A familiar warmth blooms in my heart when I hold it up to admire the blue swirls and hand-pressed logo. It’s the same feeling from when Viola would sneak me into her performances or share an earbud at our favorite coffee shop.

I’m not sure what to make of Ezren’s last statement. Not normal? In a good way? He’s probably just being nice. But . . .I’ll keep that compliment in the back of my mind.

It can be something to hold onto when we’re all trapped in an enclosed vehicle with Niko and Ryel for hours and hours. Selene is terrifying, but at least she’s reasonable. Ezren had better be prepared for level-three clinging.

Slurping the last of my apple juice, I then slam it onto the table with a prayer looping in my mind. A beg, if I’m being honest.

Because I can only hope my being resigned to not care about him won’t crumble when Niko looks like a dream but acts like a nightmare.