Chapter 9: Buzz - Hunger & Harmony

Honking and the rumbling of highway traffic make a jarring alarm clock. My nose scrunches as I stretch my limbs, an unfamiliar ceiling above me when my eyes blearily blink open.

“Huh?”

I shoot upwards, more awake than a double-shot espresso could achieve. What the hell? Why am I in Niko’s room?

As I stumble out of his bed, impressions of bright constellations and the scent of damp earth trickle back. I’m still in yesterday’s clothes and, more pressingly, Niko’s jacket. Wide-eyed, I nearly trip to peek out of the drawn curtains, realizing we’re in the middle of rush hour. Is it seriously almost sunset again? How long was I asleep?

Nerves bundle in my stomach as I put the curtain back. I slowly turn, eyes dragging from the bed to the closed doors. Shit. I fell asleep on him, and I’m still enveloped in his scent. I could literally live in this soft leather, but . . .

What does this mean?

I don’t have time to assess where our relationship stands right now. Lorelai must be so pissed. Here I was, making a king tend to me on the clock!

Sucking in a breath, I hold courage in my lungs as I cross the room and push the doors open. There’s no one waiting. No termination papers thrown in my face. I shuffle past the bunks and bathroom door, following the hum of quiet activity.

At the heart of the bus, Arteria are spread out. Selene and Ryel sit at the table, his back to me. She doesn’t acknowledge me. My eyes shift to the couch, and I find Ezren splayed out on the left end while Niko reclines to the right. Headphones cover his ears, and his eyes are closed.

Ezren finds my gaze first. He lifts a finger to his lips when I open my mouth, a knowing smirk twisting behind it. When he wiggles his eyebrows, I blink back. I don’t know what he thinks happened, but it can’t be wholesome.

I mouth, “I’m going to the bathroom.”

He gives me a thumbs up before shooing me away.

Tiptoeing up the hallway again, I catch my breath with my back against the bathroom wall. My work phone is my next destination, confirming it really is late in the afternoon. The maps app also says we’re crossing into New Lure proper.

I'd better get ready and catch up on what’s happening. My heart is a mess, but my appearance doesn’t have to be.

Especially knowing how closely the Midnight Court watches. The appointment with Archduchess Imara is slotted right before a high-profile cover shoot on the calendar. The pressure tonight is sky high, not to mention the sold-out show tomorrow. I’ve got to get it together.

Cherry lip gloss and some soft curls in my hair will have to be good enough armor.

* * *

My neck cranes back as I look up, up, and even further up. I’ve never felt so small in my life. Both literally and in the sense of being as significant as a gnat.

V-Lur’s headquarters reaches into wisps of clouds. The very top almost kisses the full moon. An ethereal glow casts over the skyscraper, though most of the office windows are already lit.

“Move.”

I hurry out of a tall woman’s way, surprised I even got a word of acknowledgment. Lorelai gestures her hand impatiently at me.

People draped in long, chic coats and bold colors enter and exit the glass entrance with an air of importance. The satisfying click of red-bottomed heels and sleek oxfords cut through New Lure’s downtown buzz. Everyone is so beautiful.

It’s undeniably glamorous. Given V-Lur’s status as Aurea’s top fashion and pop culture magazine, I wouldn't expect anything less.

Lorelai was strict about who could come with. It’s just me, her, and Arteria tonight. She didn’t mention yesterday, but maybe because this is more important.

“Quit looking at everything,” Lorelai hisses quietly as I do a spin, eyes full of fashion and traffic lights.

Security is less dense, though the small group of well-dressed guards is still intense as Arteria is stopped right before entering. I remain to the side as the band entertains a few questions and photos from the paparazzi.

“King Niklaus! You haven’t been to New Lure in so long! Are you here to celebrate the tour’s success and your indisputable reign as the Vampire King of Rock?”

The typical back-and-forth is accompanied by flashing cameras. I would be more invested if the air wasn’t so biting.

At least I have Niko’s leather jacket. No, I didn't ask if I could keep it. I just don’t have as sturdy a jacket as his! What else could I pair with this little black dress and heeled loafers? Being so far north, I’m sure he understands. Not that we talked about it. Or at all since last night.

The most I’m getting is his eyes steady on mine. I’ve been anticipating the return of his phantom touch, too, but it’s been sadly empty on my hips and neck. That leads to sillier hopes, like his cool fingers burning into my skin for real. Is he thinking about it as much as I am? Surely I’m not misreading his heated stares . . .

Fingers suddenly snap in front of my face.

“What? Huh?”

I gasp when I see everyone filing into the building. My focus moves to the pastel pink impatience in front of me. Lorelai frowns, gesturing for me to follow.

“Earth to Cadie! Do you want to be left out here?”

Wow. Fantasizing about my boss so hard that I’m about to lose my job.

“Coming!” I say, rushing to catch up.

For a bustling building, the lights sure are dim in here. By the time I catch up with everyone in the lobby, I have to squint and let my eyes adjust. It’s hard to make out anyone’s faces. Or their intentions.

“Everyone, stay together,” Niko says, voice sharp.

It’s not just for the cameras. Paparazzi are long gone as he gestures for security to tighten. His authority is natural, the characteristics of a king shining as he takes the front with Selene at his side. Even Ezren is well-behaved when I file behind him. Despite the low lighting, I can tell he’s even more tense than Niko. My mind returns to what he shared before, and how he was turned in New Lure. Hunters devastated his family here, too. I’m sure this city haunts him, no matter how much time has passed.

“Welcome!” a woman greets us as she approaches, fangs gleaming in what little light there is. “On behalf of V-Lur, I extend our sincerest excitement to have Arteria here tonight.”

Her voice grates like nails on a chalkboard, jarringly chipper for the overall mood of this lobby. I can hardly hear her sincerity.

“Of course,” Niko says, his flat response not deterring her fussing.

“Queen—ah, I mean, Archduchess Imara is waiting,” she says.

Is it just me, or is that a really big no-no? If anyone else is uneasy to hear that snide comment, they don’t show it. The walk to the elevators is uneventful.

The only crack in Arteria’s perfect calm is Ezren’s foot tapping like the beat of a drum. Nothing the elevator’s soft music can drown out, that’s for sure. I’m sandwiched between him and Selene, so I place a gentle hand on his wrist. He stiffens, only relaxing when our eyes meet a moment later. I give him an encouraging nod, and he returns my smile weakly. While I can’t do much, I can be a supportive friend. Only an outsider has that privilege right now.

It feels like walking onto a battlefield when the doors slide open.

This floor has more lighting than the lobby, only a few pockets of darkness shrouding who knows what as we pass through an open-concept office. Once the path narrows into a hallway with sporadic doors, my stomach churns harder. The air is thick with a metallic scent, and I suppress a cough not to draw attention.

“Your assistants may wait here,” the woman says, and I can actually make out how strained her smile is.

She gestures to the small waiting area. I exchange a glance with Lorelai before following her to my spot beside a magazine rack and a window. The blinds are tightly shut.

The last thing I catch is Niko’s eyes glowing crimson in my direction. Before I can react, he and the rest of Arteria are closed into a room, the black door audibly locking.

I’m not given a single moment to process that as another woman approaches us. Her demeanor is much friendlier. Pouches like the ones in our fridges rest upon a golden platter in her hand.

“What type, Miss?”

Does she think Lorelai is a vampire? I suppose her bubblegum goth style does lean more into Arteria’s styling.

Except when I glance up, the woman is directing her gaze at me.

“What?”

She hovers the platter of blood closer to me.

“Refreshments?” She briefly glances at Lorelai. “Oh, excuse my assumptions, is this human your⁠—”

“She’s fine, thank you,” Lorelai cuts her off swiftly.

“Oh.” The woman straightens up and nods. “Call out if you need me, then. I’m just around the corner.”

Blood rushes too loudly in my ears to know if Lorelai responds. Did . . .that woman just mistake me for a vampire? And imply Lorelai is my . . .blood bag?

By the looks of Lorelai’s concerned expression, I think she really did.

“What the hell?” I whisper, and Lorelai shrugs.

“Uh . . ..yeah . . ..”

I don’t know what to think. Sure, I never wear this much black. To be mistaken for a vampire seems a bit much, even as their assistant.

Disquieted, I busy myself with the magazine rack. For a moment, I’m sure my mind is jumbling the words because of stress. It’s only when I try to focus that I see some of the magazines are written in an ancient text, surely vampiric script.

Huh. New Lure is the total opposite of Gravemont. Vampire presence is strong here. I can’t help but think of Ezren’s siblings. Do Hunters have their own territory close by? How does this all even work?

My knowledge is still limited. Living in a suburb of Halcyon Fields my entire childhood, I’d never encountered vampires in real life. No one spoke of them either, good or bad. They just didn’t come up. Maybe I’m more sheltered than I give credit.

That thought echoes in my mind as the door cracks open. How long has it been? I straighten in my seat.

A woman appears in the doorway, unlike any I’ve seen today. Tall, commanding, regal. From crimson lips to a tight, black bun of hair, not one part of her is flawed. Her beauty is hard to compare to, though I immediately notice her eyes are similar to Niko’s. Her natural authority, too. She moves from the door like smoke—the kind that suffocates slowly.

Lorelai tenses beside me. This must be Archduchess Imara.

My attention is ripped away when I see Niko exiting after her. If possible, his expression has become stonier, and his body language is just as tense as he leads Arteria back into the hallway. He scrubs the corner of his mouth with his knuckle before I can confirm, but I swear there was a stain of red on his lips. Supplements? Or actual blood?

I immediately stand, internally wincing when I realize how eager I must look. In Niko’s jacket, no less.

The Archduchess pauses, a subtle glance cast over me before she looks at her nephew.

“Stay careful with those you keep in your shadows, Niklaus,” she says, voice like a sharpened blade.

Another ripple of hostility crashes over the room. I shuffle on my shoes. Niko remains stone-still, and Ezren’s foot is tapping again. I don’t miss Selene’s fingers curling into fists, either. Even Ryel’s posture reads defensive. Because it’s clear what she’s saying behind her demure tone.

“You’re not worthy to lead.”

For once, I’m going to keep my big mouth shut. No matter how badly I want to speak up for Niko, I’m still an outsider.

“I won’t keep you any longer,” Archduchess Imara continues. “Wear the Crown with care.”

Less of a reminder, her threat hangs in the air many moments after the clicks of her heels fade. Not that anyone can get a word in before that awful woman who brought us here returns.

“How about that shoot?”

A storm of thoughts swirls in my head. I’m barely paying attention as I’m shuffled to the side.

How do I figure out more about this? Ask Ezren? Selene? Would it be better to confront Niko himself? I’m just so lost on what to do, or even say. I’m an assistant, of course, but . . .

Is it foolish to dream of being more? Selfish, even? I should stop. If there’s one thing I know about myself, it’s that being told no makes getting my way all the more enticing.

Niko isn’t a game, though. He’s not like music, a forbidden fruit that I’ve chased for so long. He’s far more tangible and so different. It’s not his status, his fame, his power. It’s him I want to get close to. The man behind the crown. The soul within black leather and silver chains.

He treats me like a whole person. While he didn't hesitate to insult me to my face, he’s also the same man who brought me warmth, showed me the stars, and let me fall asleep on him. I can’t figure him out, and that’s the fun part.

I don’t want his persona. I want what he hides. Who he really is.

The flash of a camera jerks me from my thoughts. I rearrange my face to stop smiling like an idiot when my brain catches up.

“Yes! Yes, the drama, the power!”

When did the photoshoot start? My jaw goes slack. The set, wardrobe, and arrangements are to die for. Rapid-fire orders blend with flashes and clicks.

Opulence marries rockstar chic flawlessly. Selene is draped in satin and chain mail, echoes of a knightly uniform blending with her sweeping, midnight gown. Ezren’s outfit is sultry and noble, while Ryel poses in a gothic ensemble.

My eyes are only for Niko. He looks every bit the king he is, hair tousled under a gold crown. The warm metal is stark against his dark hair and garments, and I find it rather symbolic. The most prominent thing about him is what I’m least interested in.

“Unbutton his shirt, pull up the throne!” the photographer hollers, coordinators and stylists getting to work. “We need more! More gothic allure, more kingly dominance, more . . .”

I must be watching in awe a little too closely because the creative lead suddenly snaps and points at me.

“You there! Redhead. You—yes, her.” He talks to the stylists. “Glam her up; she’s otherwise perfect!”

Wait, what?

“Stand here beside His Majesty,” he says, the camera now staring at me as makeup brushes and fingers find my face and hair. “No, closer.” Those hands quickly push us together, and my cheeks heat under the new layer of blush. “Closer!”

My breath hitches as Niko’s arm slides around my waist. I look up, his jaw tight as his eyes meet mine.

What is going on? I’m not any kind of model!

“Wait, I’m not⁠—”

“You’re perfect,” the photographer purrs. “A new breed. Something we haven’t seen before!”

He’s right. I haven’t been seen like this before. My hair is bigger, more dramatic, and the shade of lipstick floating towards me matches Niko’s eyes. It’s like I’m a doll, unable to see entirely what they’ve done, only able to feel the heavier layer of makeup and hairspray.

Despite the chaos and my thundering heart, Niko is steady. Respectful. The room is spinning, and strangers are poking at me, watching me, but his firm grasp is grounding. It’s not flirtation as he corrects my poses. Even when he brushes my hair to the side, he’s in perfect control. I’ve lost all knowledge of what anyone else is saying or doing, solely locked in on him.

My hands rest against his bare chest. I try to remain unfazed, but it’s so hard not to feel weak in the knees. Never did I think my first time feeling his body so close to mine would be captured by thousands of camera clicks. Not just for the crowd here, but for the world.

The world promptly slams back into focus when his lips brush over my neck.

“Closer. Yes, Your Majesty, eyes on the camera!”

I stiffen, and Niko’s thumbs press into my skin. A gentle reminder.

He cradles the back of my neck, his other hand firm on my waist. The camera must be behind us. I know what shot they’re going for.

“The damsel and the monster! Oh yes, perfect! Pure seduction and submission!”

The faceless prey within a king’s grasp. That’s all I am in their eyes. A prop for Niko to play into his nature as the cameras flash.

I don’t know why a flash of anger pulses through me. Maybe there are a lot of women who’d love to be in this position, but it’s counter to everything he makes me feel.

Not that my pouting stops shivers cascading down my spine. When his fangs ghost against my neck, never touching but so tantalizingly close, I press my thighs together.

“Is this how you usually do it?” I whisper, mostly muttering to myself.

Niko pauses for just a moment, voice low in my ear.

“No. This is worse.”

My lips downturn completely.

“Usually,” he continues, “I don’t care.”

My stomach twists at his charged answer. His words throw gasoline on the fire building in my body. It’s trying to make a home between my hips, fervent behind my ribs.

“Stunning! You are absolutely stunning, Your Majesty!” the photographer exclaims. “We have a cover, for sure!”

It’s a blur as the photoshoot wraps. At some point, I’m released from Niko’s grasp and back to Lorelai’s side. I snatch up the cup she offers, but no amount of cool water quells the fire.

The memory of his hands still burns into my body. I never thought I could want someone so badly. Someone I really, really shouldn’t.

I excuse myself to the bathroom without ever looking back at him. Out in the hallway, I can at least feel my lungs again. Before I enter the ladies' room, two voices catch my attention.

“Does King Niklaus have a new fledgling?” a woman asks.

“That girl they had in his shoot?” a man replies. “Come to think of it, I don’t recognize her. Wasn’t the last fledgling Ezren?”

Peeking around the corner, I spot two stylists standing in the adjacent hallway. Their backs are to me as they continue to gossip.

“Yeah, but . . .I don’t think she’s a new member.”

“A lover, then?”

They share a giggle, and my teeth dig into my bottom lip.

“No one but a lover could be that close to the king’s fangs and live.”