That—and a little begging—was how I ended up crammed in a tiny office full of beefy vampires and werewolves in the basement of the manor. Murphy stood in front of a whiteboard at the back of the room. At the last minute, Mandy joined us, nudging in between another guard and me. I didn’t have time to question her before Murphy began his lecture.
“Listen up, men—and ladies. The security system is scheduled for an update later this evening. That means overlapping perimeter shifts. If you have questions, save them for after the meeting so no one is late reporting for duty. If you don’t have time to re-test on the range tonight, I expect you to make time tomorrow night. Anyone who doesn’t will be dismissed from this assignment.”
A few of the guards shuffled uneasily, occasionally glancing down at their watches, but they didn’t say anything. I’d already witnessed what a tight ship the duke ran. I didn’t imagine he made exceptions for meetings or office birthday parties.
“We have five major priorities next Wednesday,” Murphy continued, ticking them off on his fingers as he listed them. “The duke, the princess, the duchess, the future baroness, and the harem. We’re allowed a night guard and a daylight attendant for each of the royals. Four vamps and four wolves. The queen’s estate will be heavily fortified, so our biggest concern will be the transport to and from Denver.” He paused to stare Mandy and me down. “This should go without saying, but just in case there’s any doubt, this is confidential information. The boss’s house has many enemies. Let’s not make our jobs harder than they have to be.”
“Here, here!” a guard in the back shouted. Several others chuckled under their breaths.
Murphy cleared his throat and turned to the dry erase board, drawing two large rectangles and two smaller ones. Inside the first rectangle, he wrote several names in what I assumed was another language, considering how hard it was to read.
“Lane will take the first SUV with two wolves and three of the donors we’re bringing from the harem for the royal fam,” he said as the dry erase marker squeaked across the board. “Guards will be sticking to the queen’s blood stock for the party to reduce the size of the harem we’re traveling with. It’s safer, and since we’ll be taking the private jet, we’re limited on available seats.”
Private jet? First, there’s a shooting range in the basement, and now a private jet? I definitely wasn’t asking the right questions. I side-eyed Mandy, curious to see if she’d known about either.
In the second large rectangle, Murphy wrote more names. “SUV number two. A vamp, a wolf, three donors. Donnie will drive the duke and the future baroness. That leaves the princess, the duchess, and Starsgard with me. There will be just enough seats for the guards who’ll be driving the fleet back to the manor,” he finished, scribbling our names in the smaller boxes in illegible chicken scratch.
I should have expected that the duke would want his little protégé in the same car as him, but it didn’t ease my disappointment—and it effectively spoiled the distraction I had hoped this meeting might offer.
Murphy cleared his throat, dragging my attention back to the whiteboard. “Drivers will meet with me Friday evening for a test run to the airport. House McCoy is providing us an identical rental fleet for our stay in Denver, so we’ll load up the same way once we land.”
I wasn’t sure if this was how all major outings were planned, or if this was an extra precaution being taken since the trash truck park battle, but every guard in the room was paying attention. These were professionals, and even if their days were vastly ho-hum, they were paid well to always be aware of potential threats. Mindful of their surroundings. To be on time, even if they knew they’d likely spend the next twelve hours walking through the dark with only the crickets for company.
Mandy was right there with them, fully absorbing the information and not catching a single glance I shot her—unless she was ignoring me on purpose, knowing I had some serious questions about what else she’d been hiding since being initiated into the guard squad.
Why on earth wouldn’t she have told me about the shooting range under the manor? Was she sworn to secrecy? Had the guards taught her their secret handshake and told her that I wasn’t allowed in the club? Or was my duchess tempus status really such a big deal now that even Mandy saw me as some fragile, helpless thing?
Murphy went on to cover the emergency procedures in the event of a plane crash, and then rattled off an everyone-is-dangerous-at-this-party speech that I imagined he’d given plenty of times before. After that, we finally filed out of his office and headed to the range. Half of the men split off and went upstairs to begin their shifts, leaving Murphy, Mandy, me, and two wolves who likely had day shift.
We passed a couple of halls lined with doors on either side that I assumed were the guards’ living quarters, and then several closed doors all labeled: storeroom. The concrete walls were thicker at this end of the basement, narrowing the hallway that curled around a bend and led to a solid steel door with a small viewing window.
Inside, eight shooting booths were angled down a cavernous tunnel. Rails lined the ceiling, curling just ahead of each cubical where stacks of silhouette targets hung, ready to go. Which was good, since I was ready to go. It had been too long since I’d squeezed a trigger, and I needed some catharsis.
Now that I had my guns and gear back, I’d made a few adjustments to my old, double shoulder holster so it would accommodate the pair of Reaper TDs that Dante had given me before Ursula’s trial. I’d worn my blazer to cover the arsenal, just in case the princess’s aversion to exposed undergarments extended to open carry, too. The last thing I needed was for her to convince the duke to take away my weapons again.
Mandy wore a faded jean jacket and a pair of her nicer jeans. Werewolf or not, in her human form, she was petite. Even though her pair of TDs, tucked in the holsters under her arms, were the 9mm compact models, they pushed out the folds of her jacket. Hopefully, whatever getup Ethan was working on for her would be more concealing. I was already plotting how to get in touch with him before the final fitting to see if he could somehow incorporate pockets into the dress design that allowed me to reach my thigh holster.
“Here.” Murphy nudged my shoulder with a pair of ear-muffs. “Just because we heal now doesn’t mean we should be careless.” He’d all but lost the hearing in his right ear as a human, so I wasn’t surprised by his caution. These are the noise-filtering kind, so you’ll be able to hear me even when they’re on,” he added.
“Why haven’t you mentioned the range to me before now?” I asked, taking the muffs from him.
“You never asked.” Murphy shrugged sheepishly. “Besides, I thought you already knew.” His eyes slid to Mandy, and her nostrils flared with offense.
“Don’t look at me!” she snapped. “I just got in trouble yesterday for telling Yosh we’re flying to Denver. My lips are zipped.”
“Is Yoshiko coming with us?” I asked, turning back to Murphy.
“No. She, uh... She’s needed here to run the harem.” He popped his ear-muffs on and pulled one of his pistols, waiting for us to do the same.
The two wolves who had remained behind with us waited patiently in lanes at the far end of the room. Murphy slugged a button along the low wall of the first booth, and a small, mechanical arm latched on to one of the targets, hooking it over the first ceiling rail. I pulled my muffs on and hit the button inside my stall, following his lead the same as everyone else.
“I want to see your best for five, fifteen, and twenty-five—five shots each, from both hands. You’re allowed two full runs,” Murphy shouted. “And no dillydallying. Bad guys don’t wait around for the next shot.”
The rails whirred softly as they dragged the targets out to the first mark of five yards. I drew the TD on my right side with my left hand first. After training at the bat cave, I was pretty accurate with both, but some time had passed since then, so I stuck with my dominant hand.
“Going hot!” Murphy shouted, giving the go-ahead.
/>
The ear-muffs clicked as the first shot sounded, dropping the volume to a comfortable level. I lined up my sights and ripped off five shots, trying to keep up with the others. No need to give them any more reason to doubt me. I could be a duchess and a badass all in one. I’d show them.
My aim wasn’t perfectly center, but I didn’t miss the target. I pressed the button to reel in the silhouette and rolled it up before stuffing it down into a bin inside the booth as I’d watched Mandy do. Then I sent out another sheet and kept going, determined not to be the last to finish.
Halfway through the session, after we’d completed the first round and emptied the magazines in all our pistols, we broke to reload. Several boxes of Silver Wolfsbane target ammo were stashed on a shelf under the small stretch of counter that separated my booth from the shooting lanes. I ejected my magazines and set the TDs down before digging one of the boxes out.
“Yoshiko told me that she came from the Blood Okiya in L.A,” I said, glancing up at Murphy before I began reloading.
“Yeah, but she don’t like to talk about it.”
“I gathered that. Still, pretty damn impressive.”
Murphy rubbed his knuckles under his chin and along his jaw, scratching the line of stubble there. There was pride in his smile, though he tried to hide it. “She’s one of a kind.”
In the booth on the other side of mine, Mandy swore as she pinched her finger in one of her magazines. When she realized that she was bleeding, she blew out an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. The sight of her blood made my tongue go dry.
“Is it snack time?” I asked, giving her an apologetic grin when she glared at me.
Mandy stuffed her hand down into the pocket of her jean jacket and dropped a handful of random junk on the counter between her pistols. She plucked a wad of tissue out of the mess and squeezed it around her finger before stuffing the rest of her loot back into the jacket pocket, pausing on a delicate, white gold charm bracelet. Tiny bats, coffins, and crowns dangled from the chain.
“The fuck?” she said under her breath as she examined it.
“That’s new,” I said, nodding at the jewelry. “It’s pretty.”
“It’s not mine.” She frowned. “I must have accidentally picked it up in the harem. I doubt it belongs to any of the guards.” She shrugged and stuffed it back into her pocket. “Yosh will know. I’ll drop it off to her later.”
We finished reloading and began the second round. With each shot I fired, I felt the tension I’d been carrying around between my shoulder blades release a little more. I’d needed this more than I realized. Being cooped up in the manor with nothing more worthwhile than soap operas, etiquette lessons, and sparring to pass the time, my self-worth had taken a nosedive.
My mood lightened again once I finished and heard someone else fire off two last rounds. After the sheets had been examined, and we were all deemed acceptable shots, Murphy shouted, “Haulette! Our Slow Draw McGraw. You get to clean up the casings.”
“Aw, man,” the guard grumbled, but he set to work as Murphy led the rest of us out of the range room and back down the long hall toward the stairs.
I let Mandy and the other guard go up ahead of me so I could thank Murphy one more time.
“Don’t mention it,” he said, almost as if it were a request.
I nodded in understanding, silently vowing to keep the meeting and range session to myself. It didn’t seem like that would be hard to do, what with the duke and me avoiding each other. I questioned that line of reasoning as I topped the stairs and entered the foyer.
Haunting music filled my ears and froze my heart.
Chapter Twelve
A WHITE BABY GRAND piano rested in the corner of the foyer near the entrance. Audrey sat in front of it, her fingers dancing lightly over the keys while Dante stood off to one side, his eyes closed and a blissful expression on his face.
Between that look and the heartbreaking melody, a lump formed in my throat. This was a siren’s song, and if I weren’t careful, I was sure I’d be dashed against the rocks of some unforgiving shore. But before I could decide whether or not slipping by unnoticed was even an option, the song ended, and Dante clapped his hands.
“Wonderful!” He sighed and touched Audrey’s shoulder, bringing a flush to her cheeks. She turned a deeper shade of red when her gaze snagged on me. Dante turned around to see what had caught her attention. “Ms. Skye!” He sounded surprised. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Oh? Well, I didn’t see you either,” I said, feeling foolish for the comment before I’d even finished speaking. “I just heard the tail-end of the song...”
“She’s very good, isn’t she?” he said, smiling down at Audrey.
“Wonderful,” I repeated his earlier praise. “Darkly does them right, huh?”
Audrey twisted her fingers in the lap of her frilly dress. Then she glanced up at the wall above the piano, and I noticed the portrait of Ursula.
“You’re rather talented yourself,” she said, offering the compliment with a timid smile.
“Yes,” Dante echoed. “The princess was quite proud of your rendering. She insisted that it be hung somewhere everyone could enjoy it.”
“Speaking of the princess,” I said, seizing the opening, “I have a lesson to prepare for. If you’ll excuse me, Your Grace. Audrey.” I mentally patted myself on the back for acknowledging the girl without making a face.
“Please,” Dante said as I headed for the south wing. “Allow me to walk you to your room. We have not spoken in some time. I would very much like to catch up.” He looked down at Audrey and touched her shoulder again. “I’ll leave you to break in your new instrument.”
Taking the cue, she smiled and went back to the keys, touching them softly as he crossed the foyer to join me. I swallowed and tried to smile at him, but my face wouldn’t cooperate. How had things become so awkward between us in just a week?
“You’re armed,” he said after we’d walked a short way down the hall. “I’ve been a vampire for one hundred and fifty-three years,” he added at my wide-eyed, guilty expression. “I can even smell the toothpaste you used earlier tonight. Minty.” He inhaled a deep breath.
“I just came from the basement range,” I confessed, leaving Murphy’s name out of it and ignoring the comment about my breath.
“Ah. I see.” Dante nodded and folded his hands behind his back. “Is that what’s been keeping you so busy this past week?”
“Maybe.” I shot him a sideways glance. “What’s your excuse?”
Dante made an affronted noise. “We acquired three new residents last week—one of which I intend to sire—and two others for the harem the week before that. There have been arrangements to make and fittings for the All Hallows’ Eve ball—” He stopped suddenly and grabbed my hand, halting my powerwalk down the hall. “I am sorry. You are right, I should have made time for you.”
I pulled my hand out of his grasp and took the few remaining steps to my bedroom door. Dante followed me inside, not even waiting for an invitation. I took off my blazer and tossed it on the dresser. My blood was boiling, but I couldn’t tell if it was more from anger or longing.
“You know,” I said, putting my hands on my hips as I faced him. “I’m a practical girl. I don’t expect to be swept off my feet. But if you’re ditching me in favor of your new Stepford blood bride—”
“Ms. Moore is not my blood bride, and I’m certainly not...ditching you.” The phrase sounded odd coming from his lips, as if he didn’t quite understand it. Before I could explain it further, he shook his head. “Practical or not, you deserve to be swept off your feet, Ms. Skye.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, great. Let me guess, this is the part where you tell me that the right guy is out there, and I need only wait for him to come along and—”
Dante closed the distance between us in two strides. His mouth latched onto mine, stealing my surprised breath as his tongue traced my lower lip. One hand pressed into my lower back, and his
other curled around my neck, under my ponytail. I melted against him, my useless hands groping his chest and shoulders.
When he finally broke the kiss, I was lightheaded and speechless.
“I intend to do the sweeping, Ms. Skye,” he said against my mouth, lips grazing mine.
“Consider me swept.” I panted softly, enjoying the smell of my toothpaste on his breath.
I waited for the familiar pang of guilt to ruin the moment, but I didn’t have time to dwell on Roman this time.
A bloodcurdling scream echoed down the hallway outside my room, reaching into every nook and cranny of the manor. It struck my heart with a jolt of adrenaline as sharp and sudden as lightning.
Dante and I held our breaths and stared at one another a moment before the shock released us. Then he tore off out of the room with me hot on his heels, a pistol already in my hand. We rushed down the south wing toward the foyer as another scream ripped through the manor.
This one was deeper and full of despair. And it belonged to Murphy.
Chapter Thirteen
YOSHIKO LAY ON HER back at the bottom of the south stairwell, her neck twisted at an unnatural angle. There was a pool of blood near her head, but it wasn’t hers. The spill began at the spout of an overturned teapot. Shards of ceramic were scattered across the hardwood floor, the ruins of what I imagined were once a pair of espresso cups.
Murphy knelt on his knees beside Yoshiko, his hands hovering over her body as if he were afraid to touch her. He made a helpless, mewling sound deep in his throat, and then abandoned protocol to clutch her limp body to his chest, dragging her hair through the spilt blood.
Half a dozen guards stood in the mouth of the foyer, and more were fast approaching. Mandy appeared with another wolf, both in sweats and coming from the north wing where I assumed they had been working out in the gym. Their confusion spiraled into shock, and then fearful sorrow at Murphy’s open anguish. Mandy’s bottom lip quivered, and she shook her head in disbelief.
Blood, Sweat, and Tears Page 8
