CHAPTER 3

Faye remembered herself and turned away. What was wrong with her? "Sparrow, we need to leave."

Sparrow snorted, glancing back at her. "Fifteen minutes bitch."

"The guy I ran into is sniffing." They'd stopped at the opposite side of the courtyard near the ornate fountain, between two couples, feeding.

Sparrow's gaze bounced from the male, nuzzling a woman's throat to Faye. "But he's not biting, so we stay."

At her sister's words, Faye imagined she was seated on her vampire's lap. His long, elegant fingers traced circles on her thigh, inching higher with each rotation. Her nails scratched against the dark material of his jacket as his lips brushed the side of her neck.

"Figures, you would trip over the Shadow Prince." Sparrow glanced back at the man, who now walked to a more secluded corner of the courtyard.

He couldn't be. "How do you know who he is?"

"We're at the Hunter's Moon ball. Who else would dress like him.?"

"You think he's the only white-haired vampire?" Faye glanced back in his direction. She watched him, making sure he stayed on his side of the courtyard.

Sparrow hit Faye in the arm. "Look, it's the High Queen. Ritual time."

Faye followed Sparrow's gaze.

The High Queen stood at the center of the balcony, smiling at her guests. Her corseted gown tucked into every curve, accentuating her figure. Moonlight gleaming off the jeweled pins and combs in her shoulder-length rich brown hair tinged with bronze, she carried an effortlessly elegant air to herself.

The string quartet stopped playing as the guests silenced their chatter. Every attendee stood, focusing on their queen.

"Tonight, we give thanks to the Darkness," The High Queen's melodic voice carried through the courtyard.

Faye watched the High Queen raise a champagne flute. Her eyes darkened until they mirroredhis. Faye's gaze snapped to the vampire she ran into earlier. The Shadow Prince. He watched the High Queen from a secluded alcove away from the crowd. A beautiful, dangerous male.

"For the wish granted that gave us life. Join me now as we cast our wishes to the Darkness." The High Queen continued.

Sparrow leaned closer to Faye. "This is not the vampire orgy I've dreamed of."

Faye glanced down at Sparrow and pouted her bottom lip. "Sad face."

"I'm stealing a plate of their food, and then we can go." Sparrow uncaringly walked around the vampires, who closed their eyes as they bowed their heads, making her way back to the food station.

The silence unnerved Faye. She crept around the solemn faces, her gaze wandering to the alcove. He bowed his head like the rest of them, clasping his wrist in front of him.

I wish for an equal.

Startled, Faye turned toward the voice, finding nothing. She heard a deep male voice; he spoke against her ear just behind her. Faye patted Sparrow's back.

"Did you hear that?"

Sparrow turned, holding a plate piled with pastries. "Hear what?"

"Somebody wished for an equal."

Sparrow snorted. "Nope." She looked around at the motionless vampires. "I didn't spot any day-bloods. I would be upset about losing if they didn't get so boring. Let's go."

Faye followed Sparrow, taking one last look at the Hunter's Moon ball. At the rings housing their dark-blooded soul shards. They were all dark-bloods, Faye realized. She took a sweeping glance over the attendants. Not a day-blood among them.

Dark-bloods looked down on her kind. On anything weaker than them. They loved power, seeking out others they deemed equals.

Pain and anger whispered through her veins. She thought of all the times a dark-blood had dismissed her. Every dark-blood that wanted her, but only as a pet. She'd learned they couldn't hurt her if she rejected them first.

She thought of the deep male voice and willed all her seething frustration and hurt into a reply she cried in her mind.I can hear you, but you're no equal to me.A message to every dark-blood she'd met. Every dark-blood she had yet to meet. Her promise.

She would refuse them all.

Glad the night was over, Faye joined Sparrow on the street as they strolled away from the High Queen's estate back into the city.

"Did you have fun?" Sparrow linked arms with her and glanced in her direction, suddenly halting her steps. She leaned one way then the other, staring at her eyes. "Your eyes don't hurt?"

"What's wrong with them?"

"You're going to a healer." Sparrow grabbed her wrist and began leading her through the streets.

"I can't see a healer here." They were in Necromia, and she was wearing a fake dark-blooded soul shard.

The castes were more than just the soul shards. Dark-bloods didn't recognize her as a person. To them, she was nothing more than an animal. They refused to wait on her or let her purchase goods. The healers didn't waste their time on her kind.

"I'm dark-blooded, and I say they will." Being on the darker side of the spectrum among the dark-blooded, Sparrow always forced the issue.

"I feel fine. Let's just go home."

Sparrow pulled her up the stone stairs and pushed open a door. "Hello?"

The reception area of the clinic was small but well lit. The walls were painted in neutral earth tones. A middle-aged woman with a healer insignia on her chest came to the front desk. "How can we help you?"

"She needs to be seen. Her eyes are changing color."

Faye stiffened, apprehensive as the woman looked her up and down before she approached, pausing on her ring. She peered at her eyes, leaning closer. "That is peculiar."

Peculiar? What the hell did that mean? She smacked Sparrow, staring straight ahead so the healer could continue her inspection. "What do you mean my eyes are changing color?"

The healer flattened her palm over Faye's eye, and warmth spread over the side of Faye's face.

Sparrow tried to bury her worry, but Faye could see it. "You have yellow streaks through your eyes."

"Well, the good news is I don't feel any damage." The healer flattened her palm over Faye's other eye.

The warmth covered the side of Faye's face and faded when the healer let her go.

"You should spend the night. If anything changes, we'll be here to heal you. I can recheck you in the morning." The healer motioned for them to follow her.

Faye glanced at Sparrow, who gave her a stern look and pointed after the healer. Defeated, Faye followed the healer to a small, furnished room with a single bed under a window.

As they entered, the healer asked, "Which court do you belong to?"

"Sparrow's Song," Sparrow answered.

The nurse nodded and closed the door.

"What are you doing?" Faye hissed, heading straight to the mirror over the dresser.

"Making sure you don't wake up blind."

Faye leaned closer, inspecting her eyes. Thin streaks of gold slashed through her black irises. She turned to face Sparrow. "You don't belong to a court." A fact the healer would find out in the morning when she invoiced a court that didn't exist. Or worse, it did, and Sparrow was sending them a bill.

"She doesn't know that." Sparrow settled in an overstuffed chair with her plate of stolen pastries. "If you don't get in that bed, I'm going to take it, and you can sleep in the chair."

"You can turn into a cat. We both fit on the bed." Neither of them knew their race, having grown up in an orphan home. Sparrow claimed Familiar, a race of secretive people who served the realm Chaos and worshiped fate, enabling them to see the future. Sparrow's chaotic nature and petite, voluptuous figure fit the race's characteristics. Her ability to turn into a small, fluffy, white cat when they were young girls was what convinced her. A trait only inherited by Familiar.

Sparrow rolled her eyes. "Last time I slept with you as a cat, you tried to suffocate me."

"We were seven."

"Which makes it worse now because I'm still the same size, and you have gotten much heavier."

Faye tucked into bed, glaring at Sparrow. "One time." She held the ring out at Sparrow. "Charge this."

"I'll do it in the morning before we leave."

Curling under the blankets, Faye debated on what worried her more—being dragged before the city's ruling court or the possibility of going blind.

Blindness won by a sliver.

Faye glanced out the window, looking up at the full moon that glowed blood red. She closed her eyes, enjoying the softness of the bed and how silky the sheets felt. Dark-bloods were spoiled things. Even the beds for their sick were fancy.

She took a last look at Sparrow, "Goodnight, hooker."

"Good night, bitch."