Storm (The Storm Chronicles Book 6) by Skye Knizley Page A

finished, she picked up her chopsticks.
    “Have you felt her? I mean, through your familiar connection?” she asked.
    Levac fumbled for a bite of chicken. He wasn’t exactly an expert with the sticks. “I drew on it earlier, I know she is out there and alive. She tries to keep me blocked from anything else.”
    Sloan picked up the piece of chicken he was stumbling with and offered it on the end of her own chopsticks. “Why does she block you?”
    Levac ate the bite and smiled. “Because she respects my privacy. She made me a familiar to save my life, not to have me as her, I don’t know, property or whatever.”
    Sloan nodded and ate a bite of her own dinner. “That is almost unheard of in vampire society. Most vampires consider elevating a familiar to be the highest honor, not a lifesaving measure.”
    Levac shrugged. “Raven considers most vampire rules to be nonsense. She felt awful about the connection when she found out, but I know her choices were to let me die or make me a familiar and share her strength.”
    Sloan smiled. “I, for one, am grateful she didn’t let you die.”
    Levac leaned sideways and kissed her. “Me, too.
    Sloan gripped his tie and held him close, her eyes inches from his. Levac looked into her golden gaze, kissed her again and ran a hand through her hair. “Believe me when I say I love you, Sloan. Raven will always be in my life and would be even if I wasn’t her familiar, but it is you I am in love with, you I asked to marry. Not her.”
    Sloan traced a finger along his jaw. “I love you, Rupert.”
    She kissed him again and Levac forgot all about the meal she’d prepared for them.
    III
    Chicago, Tempeste Manor, 5:30 p.m.
    The sun had sunk low beyond the horizon and an evening snowsquall was looming on the horizon, a mass of black clouds shot through with grey and silver blown by the chill western wind. Sable flipped her coat’s collar up against the wind and hurried up the steps to the front of Tempeste Manor. Though she had only seen it in person once before, it was just as she remembered it, with its imported stone construction, high turrets and gothic archways it looked as if it belonged in a B-grade slasher flick and not sitting in a suburb on the outskirts of Chicago.
    She hurried up the steps and pushed through the door, only to be stopped by a short blonde woman in a diaphanous white gown. She stood barefoot on the marble as if oblivious to the cold.
    “Hello, Branwen.”
    “Hi, Dominique. Where is Mom?” Sable asked.
    Dominique’s face was as cold and impassive as the statue behind her. “The Mistress is preparing for court. She asked that you dress and await her in the ballroom. You can change in your room.”
    Sable frowned. “I have a room?”
    Dominique turned and lead the way toward the stairs. “Of course. You always have, though it wasn’t common knowledge.”
    “How did sis not notice that? Some detective,” Sable said with a smirk.
    Dominique paused. “She did notice. And she was told it belonged to another sibling, of which you both have many.”
    Sable snorted. “Mom lied. Like she always does.”
    “We all did, Branwen. To protect you. You seem to think this was all for her benefit. It was not,” Dominique said.
    Sable stopped. “Of course it was. Ravenel grew up with Mom and Dad by her side while I grew up with that psychopath Caderyn with only Francois to watch over me unless Mom deigned to visit.”
    Dominique spun and there was fire in her eyes. “Yes, Ravenel grew up here, with her mother and father. And she had most of her childhood ripped away. You had friends, played sports, went to the best school, yes?”
    “What, sis didn’t have friends? What a loser.”
    Dominique moved so fast Sable never saw the slap coming, she just felt the sting and heard the ringing in her ears.
    “Raven didn’t get the chance!” Dominique roared. “Raven was trained to be Fürstin, in spite of her father’s efforts. While you were out getting drunk and