“I am sure Yoshiko will gladly make the voyage to Burger King in the morning.”
I stopped in front of him and folded my arms, resisting the urge to smile. Mandy’s return had lightened my mood, but I wasn’t about to get over the house arrest anytime soon. Still, it was difficult to stay mad at Dante. He was a master of charm and distraction.
“Would you care for some blood?” he asked, offering me the cup he’d just poured. I took it but narrowed my eyes at him as I did.
“What is this about?”
Dante sighed and opened his hand, gesturing toward the pair of armchairs in front of the fireplace. He waited for me to sit down first, then joined me and poured himself a cup of blood before placing the pot on the tray.
“Dante?” I said, prompting him again. The subtle smile he often gave me when I used his first name was absent. “Did your appointment not go well tonight?”
“It was canceled,” he confessed.
“Then what’s this about?”
“You want to leave.” The way he said it almost made me feel guilty.
“On occasion, yes.” I blinked at him. “I’m not a house cat.”
“Thank goodness.” A shadow of a grin touched his lips, and he lifted his cup of blood for a sip.
“And taking up knitting or playing an oversized crotch fiddle won’t change that,” I added.
Dante’s eyes bulged, and blood shot out of his nose, splattering his cheek. He coughed into his closed fist before turning his bewildered expression on me. “An oversized what?” he rasped.
“The cello.” I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing and snatched a napkin from the blood pot tray. Dante didn’t move as I leaned forward and wiped the blood from his face. When I finished, he set down his cup and cleared his throat.
“That was a first,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest. I offered him the bloody napkin, and he accepted it, running the cloth under his nose. “How undignified.”
I let my gaze slide away and took a small drink from my cup. “We’ll just pretend that didn’t happen.”
“You want to leave,” he repeated, taking my suggestion to heart. “And I am in need of assistance with a personal matter. Perhaps we can help each other to these ends.”
“Personal matter?” I echoed, setting down my cup.
The line of Dante’s jaw tightened, and I could tell he wasn’t looking forward to sharing whatever it was he needed my help with. He licked the corner of his mouth where he’d missed a bit of blood and then cleared his throat again.
“I realize that your vampiric education is still quite rudimentary,” he said, offering me a dry smile. “But surely you are aware of the Sânge Institute?”
I nodded. “Ursula mentioned it. Said they manage a bunch of harem charm schools.”
“Blood finishing schools,” Dante corrected me. “Please, do not refer to them as anything else during your visit tomorrow night.”
“Wait—what? Where am I going?” My pulse quickened.
“I’m sending you with Murphy to Bathory House in Belleville, Illinois, to conduct a follow-up investigation.” Dante reached into the pocket of his vest and produced a satiny business card. He passed it to me. “You will be meeting with the headmistress, Lady Jusztina of House Vlad.”
“House Vlad? Same house as the owner of Bleeders?” I asked, recalling my tense meeting with Radu in his suite above the club.
“I would not mention him during your visit either—” Dante sighed and turned away from me. “Perhaps this is a bad idea.”
“No! It’s fine.” I reined in my eagerness and turned the business card over in my hand, running my thumb over the embossed outline of a swan that decorated one side. “These are all good things to know. But, um, what exactly am I supposed to be following up on with this Lady Jusztina?”
Dante swallowed, and his jaw flexed again. He fingered back a stray curl that had come loose from his slick hairdo. “As you know, the queen has ordered me to present her with my first scion next Imbolc.”
“Ah, so that’s what you’ve been up to,” I said, finally putting the pieces together. “Scion window shopping.”
“Something like that.” He made an unamused noise in his throat.
“And you want me to...what? Investigate this school to make sure their scions are...kosher?” I took a stab in the dark.
Dante closed his eyes and covered his face with one hand. “Now I know this is a terrible idea.”
“I was a detective, not a psychic.” I hitched an eyebrow at him. “If you don’t like my guesses, then spit it out. What’s the problem at this school?”
“The potential scion I chose from Bathory House went missing last week, along with one of her dowry donors,” he said, irritation lacing his words.
Her.
He’d selected a woman to be his scion. Something in my stomach clenched.
“Could she have gotten cold feet and run off?” I suggested.
Dante scoffed. “It is not unheard of, though it is quite rare, especially for a royal prospect.” He paused to rub his chin, and the inner corners of his brows curled upward. “Truthfully, I assumed the same. At least, at first. Ingrid was quite reserved when I interviewed her.”
“At first?” I tapped Lady Jusztina’s card on the small table between us. “What changed?”
“I selected a replacement from Renfield Academy in Chicago. He went missing before he even had a chance to name his donors-in-waiting. Then, I chose a third candidate, Audrey, from yet another school—Darkly Hall in Austin. Now, she and both of her subordinates are missing, too.”
“Oh.” I sucked in a tense breath. “Are we assuming that Kassandra is behind this?”
“I am assuming that you can find some scrap of proof that was overlooked by the first round of agents I sent to investigate the matter,” Dante said. “The Chicago field office is conducting the investigation at Renfield, and the Austin office is looking into Darkly, but Bathory House falls under St. Louis jurisdiction. I trust you still have your badge?”
“No one ever asked me to turn it in,” I answered sheepishly.
“Well then, I suggest you dust it off, Agent Skye.”
“Even better than a crown.” A smile threatened to split my face. I was finally getting out of here for a night, and, as a bonus, it was for something worthwhile. I tried to contain my excitement. Missing virgin blood dolls were not worth celebrating until after they had been found. Remembering that, the line of my mouth finally cooperated and flattened respectfully.
“I won’t return without your girl,” I said to Dante. He shook his head, refusing the promise.
“You may have to. Otherwise, Ursula will have my fangs for earrings.”
“Oh, right.” I bit my bottom lip and grimaced. “Is this something she knows about?”
“No.” Dante’s eyes widened in horror. “And we need to keep it that way.”
“Of course.” I would have agreed to just about anything if it meant getting to leave the manor and helping on a case. Although, postponing Ursula’s hysterics didn’t require any additional convincing.
“The tailor is coming tomorrow evening,” Dante said, answering my next question before I could ask. “Ursula will be tied up for several hours, picking materials and colors and designs for the All Hallows’ Eve ball.” His chestnut eyes bore into mine. “This is a simple, investigative assignment.”
“I’ll take it,” I answered a little too quickly.
Dante’s chin tilted up, and I fell silent. “No daring heroics. A quick peek around the premises, question the faculty and pupils, and then straight home. Simple,” he repeated as if I were unfamiliar with the definition.
“Simple. Check.” I gave him my most innocent smile. He didn’t look convinced.
“Murphy will come for you at 8:00 P.M. tomorrow night.”
“Perfect.” I picked up my cup of blood and finished it in an excited gulp before asking one final question. “I can still bring my guns, right?”
/> Dante’s hand covered his face again. “I’m going to regret this. I can already tell.”
Chapter Five
URSULA SAT ON ONE OF the cushioned benches in the library, legs folded up under her, gaze stretching for miles beyond the dark, arched window at her back. She did that often, as if in a daze, and I’d learned to let her be when it happened. To enjoy the silence while it lasted.
I sat at the oak table sprawled out in front of the princess’s perch, a mirror image of the setup on the opposite side of the room—table, bench, window—all surrounded by glossy, deep blue bookcases. Dante’s library was impressive. It held fewer books than the BATC library, but his collection contained more leisure reads. Not that Ursula used many of those for her lessons.
Tonight, the selection laid out on the table consisted mostly of history and etiquette books. Vampire etiquette. I was sure the All Hallows’ Eve ball was to blame. The princess expected me to know which of the fancy vamps deserved my attention, and whom I should snub for slights made against House Lilith centuries before I was born. As the duchess tempus, it would disgrace our family if I bowed too low to the wrong people. I guessed I should have been glad I didn’t have to remember what to do with a bunch of different forks.
“Are you sleeping with the duke?” Ursula asked suddenly, drawing my attention away from Blood Earth: Elite Vampire Families, Domestic and Abroad.
“What? No.” My face warmed as Ursula squinted at me in the reflection of the window.
“You’d like to, though. Wouldn’t you?” Her calm tone was not as disarming as it might have been coming from anyone else. It was usually an omen for an outburst or meltdown.
“He’s courting high-pedigree blood dolls,” I stammered. “I seriously doubt he has any interest in me.”
“That’s not what I asked, my scion.” Ursula’s head turned away from the window, and her mane of red curls spilled behind her shoulder as she narrowed her eyes at me. “But I believe it’s answer enough. You have too much yet to learn to bother with a complex romance. If you require sexual release, there are suitable human companions within the harem. I will inform Yoshiko to schedule an appointment with one for you tomorrow while I’m seeing to the tailor.”
“Please, don’t.” I groaned and rested my forehead on the open book in front of me.
Being cooped up in the manor didn’t leave the princess many opportunities to micromanage my life, but she took every opening she could find. She was bored too, I supposed, but I had really hoped she’d spend her spare time doing something less invasive. Like maybe one of those solo hobbies Dante had mentioned.
“I am your sire,” Ursula said, the calm in her voice hitching an octave. “It is my sworn duty to see that your every need is met.”
“I’m fine. Really.” I closed the history book and stood to put it back on the shelf.
“Perhaps you desire someone more...durable? One of the guards, perchance?” Ursula tapped a finger on her chin. “Mr. Murphy seems particularly fond of you.”
“No,” I said, pausing at the bookcase to give her a meaningful glare.
“No?” She sounded genuinely surprised. “He is handsome and pleasant, is he not?”
“He’s taken, and I’m not interested.”
“Ah, not your type,” she said, then one side of her mouth curled into a subtle smirk. “I believe the duke employs one or two half-sired guards, as well. Of course, we’d probably have to have you fitted for a muzzle to keep you from feeding on them and starting a war with our allied households.”
A heavy weight settled in my chest and curled my shoulders forward. I turned back to the bookcase, refusing to let Ursula see how deeply she’d cut me.
Of all the princess’s games, this one was my least favorite. If I lashed out at her for prodding old wounds, she’d take it as an invitation to unload the blame for Annie’s death on me. Ursula’s almost sibling scion turned half-sired companion, the one who had sacrificed herself before the Vampiric High Council to save Ursula from an even worse fate, would likely still be alive if I’d not tracked her and Ursula down last winter.
That it had been my job, my first assignment as a new Blood Vice agent, didn’t matter to the princess. In her eyes, I’d ruined the simple life she’d built from the pieces that were left after Morgan, her sire, had been murdered. We were bound by order of the queen as sire and scion, and Ursula had sworn to do her best—but that didn’t mean she had to forgive me.
Ursula sighed and pulled herself up from the bench as I returned to the table to gather up the rest of the books. I avoided her gaze until she pressed a finger to the cover of The Social Scion, pinning the volume to the table as I reached for it.
“If you’re so worried about the duke’s prospective blood bride, I suggest you take a closer look at this one,” she said. “It’s much more thorough than the book they taught from when I attended blood charm school.”
“I’m not worried,” I scoffed. My face was hot again, but I chalked it up to the secret I was keeping from her about Dante’s missing candidates and my pending trip to Bathory House.
I turned away from Ursula and crossed the library, tucking books back into place on the shelves as I went. Dawn couldn’t get here soon enough. When I finished and circled back to the table, the princess was gone, having left without a goodbye. I didn’t take offense. Her manners had always left something to be desired. Being bumped up the food chain hadn’t changed that.
I stared down at the etiquette book she’d left on the table, debating whether or not I should take it or put it back on the shelf. If Ursula found it in my room, I’d never hear the end of it. But I was betting it would prove helpful during my little field trip to Bathory House. Not to mention the upcoming ball.
I slipped into the corner of the library where the leisure books were kept and grabbed a couple of random poetry volumes to sandwich the etiquette book between. If the princess spotted me, I’d at least have a few decoys to distract her with.
MANDY WAS ALREADY OUT when I made it back to my room. She still slept in my bed whenever she wasn’t off working a case with the Cadaver Dogs. It was more out of habit now than fear that someone would slit my throat while I was dead to the world. Since the attempt on Ursula’s life, Dante’s security team had been extra vigilant.
I stashed my books in the drawer of my night table, brushed my teeth, and changed before crawling in beside Mandy. Dawn was still twenty minutes off, but I didn’t want to be caught off guard and end up in a heap on the floor.
That had only happened once at the duke’s manor, on a night when Mandy was gone. Two harem donors had found me and tucked me into bed. Which was swell of them. Of course, I would have been even more grateful if they hadn’t informed Dante the next evening. I would not be having that conversation again.
So, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling fan as I waited for the sun to rise. If I’d been human, I never would have been able to get to sleep. Not with the flutter of nerves that had turned my stomach into a beehive. For my mind-numbing existence at the manor these past months, the events of the night had been exhilarating.
I was finally going to get out of the house—for a few hours, at least. With a tailor coming, it was official that we were going to the queen’s next party. Mandy was home, and Laura’s new season had premiered on TV. But what occupied my mind most was the thought that Dante would have a scion soon. A female scion.
I shouldn’t care. The emotion I felt didn’t make sense. And after Ursula’s mention of Roman, I was feeling extra depraved about all of it.
I’d watched Dante snap Roman’s neck. Sure, he wasn’t dead dead. And being a vampire was something Roman had wanted for half a century. Plus, the last time we’d spoken, he’d made it pretty clear that we were over. That we should never have begun. He belonged to someone else.
He and Vanessa were in Denver now, training new Blood Vice recruits at the bat cave. And I was here, in St. Louis. Half royal scion, half prisoner.
For now.
>
Tomorrow night, I got to be Agent Skye again.
For the first time in months, I smiled as dawn broke.
Chapter Six
ST. LOUIS AT NIGHT was a sight for undead eyes. Everything glowed brighter than I remembered, tinting the sky with an everlasting twilight that I couldn’t even bring myself to be mad about. Vampires lived for light pollution.
Traffic buzzed by all around—every bit as awful as I recalled—and throngs of people dressed in their nightclub-best waited in lines on every other corner. The excitement made my nerves thrum, and my fangs budded, pushing against the inside of my upper lip even though I’d drunk half a pot of blood before leaving the manor.
As Murphy took the Eads Bridge over the Mississippi River, I pressed my face against the passenger window to stare up at the Arch.
“You realize we’re investigating a couple of missing girls, right?” Murphy said with a berating undertone. “You show up there with that big, dopey grin on your face, they ain’t gonna take too warmly to us.”
“This isn’t my first investigation, Murph.” I tried to swallow my excitement and snatched the case file tucked down between the console and my seat.
Ingrid Kelley, Dante’s first pick for his scion-to-be, was twenty years old. She was an avid fan of Shakespeare and an exceptional violinist, according to her records at Bathory House. Other details the first agents on scene gathered included her physical description, blood type, and city of birth. There was also a 5x7 photograph of an oil painting that reminded me of something I’d seen in my high school art history class. Girl with a Pearl Earring came to mind.
Jodie Watts, the donor-in-waiting who had gone missing with her, had a similar snapshot paperclipped to her information.
“Why isn’t there a real picture of either girl in here?” I asked Murphy.
He pressed his lips together and gave me a sideways glance. “Some of the schools can be a little...eccentric. They think by restricting modern technology and pop culture, they’ll produce blood dolls who are purer, unspoiled by exposure to mortal vices.”
Blood, Sweat, and Tears Page 3
