Chapter 16

Settling In

After a thorough investigation of the entire apartment, in which no cameras or listening devices were found, the vampire Jimmy arrived, cautiously letting himself in and carrying more bags than it looked possible for one person to handle.

“Brought ya some food,” he said, hefting the bags onto every available surface in the kitchen. He wasn’t out of breath at all.

Jimmy was of average height with a stocky build and compact muscles. He had sandy blond hair, brown eyes, and an exceedingly handsome face, like every other vamp, because they were nothing if not vain. And though he looked the same age as all vampires, anywhere between his late 20s and early 30s, there was an intangible youthfulness about him. Echo guessed that Jimmy was a recently turned vampire, a fledgling.

And he unquestioningly followed Boss’s orders, putting away the obscene amounts of food and showing Echo the service phone where he could order anything he wanted from Sky Castle’s main kitchen.

Echo had never given vampire society and hierarchy much thought before. But Jimmy was clearly a step, or several steps, below vampires like Dante and Lord Wentworth and King Luther.

Echo tried to ignore Jimmy’s disarming smile and eagerness to please, because underneath that, he had to be a ruthless bloodsucker like the rest of them.

After Jimmy made sure Echo wouldn’t starve, he left the apartment, and Echo was once again blissfully alone. That’s when he found himself back on the second floor. And there was more to it besides the game room. Echo had discovered two extra bedrooms, both small and sparse, likely meant for slaves, and a laundry room. There was also a hallway in the back leading to an exit on floor 90.

But now he found himself next to Dante’s pool table.

The wood was so sleek and polished that Echo couldn’t resist running his hands along the edge, as Dante had done when he first brought Echo up there. He leaned down to the inner cabinet, where the balls were meant to be stored, even though they were still strewn across the table where Dante had knocked them.

Echo found the triangle frame and beneath that, a book. It was old and worn, the pages faded and brittle. But Echo could still read it: Standard Rules for Pool Games. He carefully opened the cover and brushed his fingers over the date, 1905. Ten years before supernaturals enslaved the world. Humans could devote such time to inventing games and leisurely playing them. But even then, the supernatural were there, lurking and biding their time.

Echo imagined it: Dante playing pool in a crowded saloon packed with unsuspecting humans. He would have charmed them all, effortlessly winning games and buying rounds of alcohol. Would he choose a human for the night? Fuck them and drink their blood? Then kill them? He’d leave no evidence behind because back then, humans had no idea what horrors awaited them in the shadows.

Echo took the rule book and walked with it to the corner of the loft, where two tall windows met and the city sparkled below in a stunning corner view. He sat in a wingback chair, upholstered in sapphire-blue velvet. Echo wouldn’t be surprised if it was another piece of furniture Dante had preserved from the before times.

Settling in, Echo opened the book and began reading. It could prove useful to know his enemy better, what he liked, what he enjoyed. And in time, his weaknesses.

* * *

Echo held the cue stick, the slimmer end resting on his propped left hand while he rocked the other end back and forth with his right hand. The opposite of what Dante had done, because Dante was left-handed and Echo was not.

An hour or so after Echo had finished reading the rule book, Echo was deep into calculating angles and trajectories to get the balls into pockets while avoiding a scratch—a penalty whereby the cue ball inadvertently lands in a pocket. The challenge was… enjoyable. And Echo picked up on the game fairly quickly.

He hit the cue ball in a precise spot, just to the right of the center. It sent the ball forward on a slight spin, making it curve perfectly around the pesky 8 ball to knock into the red-striped 11 ball. It sank satisfyingly into the corner pocket, just as Echo had called. He smiled at that.

Only the black 8 ball was left. But while Echo chalked up the cue stick, the apartment door opened, and a soft voice traveled up to the loft.

“Echo?”

Echo’s pulse calmed as it was unmistakably Ollie. He put the cue stick away and went over to the glass railing, looking down just as Ollie came through the entryway carrying a few overstuffed bags that were almost larger than him. And unlike Jimmy, Ollie was very much out of breath.

Echo raced down the steps, and when the redhead saw him, he smiled and put the bags down on the carpeted living room floor. Ollie’s face was flushed from the exertion, but he looked excitedly at Echo.

“I brought you some clothes,” he said.

“Just some?” Echo looked at the bags nearly spilling over with black fabric.

Ollie laughed, his breath finally catching up. “Well, I figured I’d bring you a variety of styles to choose from. What you don’t want can go back.”

“Thanks, Ollie. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, picking up two of the bags again. “I’ll help you put these away.”

He was already in the hallway by the time Echo blinked and picked up the last bag to follow him.

“You don’t have to,” Echo said, just as Ollie nudged his way into the spare bedroom.

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. Besides, we didn’t really get a chance to talk this morning.”

Ollie set the bags on the neatly made bed, and Echo put the one he was carrying beside them. He didn’t bother clarifying that Dante wanted Echo in his room.

“Go ahead,” Ollie said, waving to the bags while walking to the closet. “Take a look.”

Echo began pulling clothes out of the closest bag. Most of the outfits were simple and functional, and, as Dante had requested, black. The pants were made of a pliant but strong material; they’d provide a good range of motion without excess fabric getting in the way. And the shirts looked fitted and soft—like the pants, they’d hug Echo’s willowy frame.

But not everything was simple, or even comfortable looking. Echo held up a particular article of clothing that was barely held together by thin strips of fabric and lace.

Ollie laughed, coming out of the closet with an armload of hangers and seeing Echo’s disdain. “For appearances. Dante said sometimes you’ll have to look like a typical thrall—like how most vampires around here parade their thralls around.”

Echo eyed Ollie’s faded jeans and plain T-shirt. And Ollie grinned knowingly. It seemed his vampire, Prince Abram, was not like “most” vampires.

Echo had been encountering a lot of these atypical vamps lately. But it didn’t matter. Even if some weren’t as bad as others, the few can’t redeem the atrocities of the many.

Does that mean they all deserve to die? That persistent inner voice tugged at Echo, despite how hard he had tried to silence it. It was thoughts like these that Axel worked to correct. He needed that correction.

Echo hadn’t realized he was trembling until a soft, tentative hand touched his shoulder.

“You okay?” Ollie asked, genuine concern softening his large brown eyes. His light touch radiated warmth and comfort.

And Echo stilled, the tangled web of his thoughts loosening its hold just a bit.

“Yeah,” Echo breathed out.

From this close, Echo noticed the details of Ollie’s strange collar, and he touched his own tight leather one.

“Must be hard for a free human to get used to,” Ollie said, nodding to the collar. Ollie stepped away and started putting clothes on hangers. “It will protect you, though. No vampire will touch a human with a custom collar, without permission at least.”

“I’ve never seen a collar like yours,” Echo said as Ollie paused what he was doing and touched the little wooden pendant hanging from a worn leather cord. It looked more like a necklace, and not the showy kind one would expect a prince’s thrall to wear.

“No,” Ollie said, a secret smile playing on his lips. “It’s unique. But it has been spelled, so it can’t be cut or untied by anyone other than Abram or me. And see here”—he lifted the underside of the pendant—“when the technology came out, we added a tracker to it.”

The pendant looked hand-carved and done with no small amount of skill. It was a tiny flower, a daisy, Echo believed. And there was a story to it. It sounded like Ollie and Abram had been together for a very long time. Ollie glowed with affection as the pad of his finger swept over each intricately carved flower petal.

Maybe Ollie would tell him the story someday, but Echo wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it.

Ollie seemed to rouse himself from whatever memories or deep thoughts he’d been having and started working on putting the clothes away again. “Hey, after we’re done with this, would you like to look around Sky Castle? I can show you all the slave-safe areas. And my apartment. You can meet Jane.”

“Jane?” Echo asked, a bit warily.

Ollie laughed, carrying several hangers of clothes to the closet. “She’s my dog. Luther won’t allow me to bring her anywhere else in the building, so you’ll have to come over if you want to see her.”

A dog? The rebels had a few trained for hunting, and packs of wild dogs roamed all over the forest. But he couldn’t imagine one living contentedly in a high-rise apartment.

“Okay,” Echo replied. It’d be good to start his cursory exploration of Sky Castle with a knowledgeable guide. And he was a little curious about how Ollie lived, and his dog. Something gave him genuine happiness, despite being a slave.

“Great!” Ollie said, his infectious smile lighting up the space. And not even the piles and piles of black clothes could compete against that smile.

~~~~~~~~

Important Notice!

After next week's update, Rebel will be going on hiatus until January 2024. Tapas has announced a novel contest, and I will be participating. In order to qualify, I must have 30 chapters of a new story posted by December 31st, and it's going to take my all to get it done in time. I'm working very hard on this story, and as soon as I have some chapters ready to go, I will be sharing it here with you all!

This is an exciting opportunity with Tapas, where my stories could potentially reach a wider audience. I thank all of you for supporting me with my Dominion Series, and rest assured, Rebel will return with the new year!

If you'd like to support my writing during this contest, subscribing to the new story when it posts, and liking/commenting on chapters will greatly help the story's exposure. I'm so excited to share a brand new BL/LGBTQ+ series with you! Please stay tuned for updates.

--Lettie