Blood, Sweat, and Tears

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Blood, Sweat, and Tears Page 14

by Angela Roquet


  Now was not the time to hide out. I needed to be in the ballroom when Kassandra arrived.

  I paced in front of the bust, folding and unfolding my arms, unable to stand still in my panic. Laughter bubbled and echoed down the hallway as the guests packed in tighter, some lingering in the arched opening to the ballroom. I moved farther down the hall, stopping just shy of the gallery door.

  Go in, Roman’s voice whispered in the back of my mind.

  He hadn’t opened the bond or spoke to me through it for so long that I had to wonder if I had imagined it. But then his very real hand wrapped around my waist. He pushed open the gallery door and pulled me in after him.

  Before I could say a word, his mouth covered mine, his lips forcing mine open as he crushed me against the same wall we’d defiled a year ago. My blood boiled at his touch, his rough hands roaming my back above the corset that was suddenly too tight. I couldn’t breathe.

  “Roman,” I finally rasped, wedging my arms between us. “We can’t do this.”

  “We can,” he insisted, his mouth reaching for mine again. “It’s the only time we can do this.”

  “What?” My breath heaved in and out as I tried to comprehend what he was saying. “What are you talking about?”

  “Tonight,” he whispered, his fingers tangling in the laces that held my corset in place. “All Hallows’ Eve—it’s the only party of the queen’s that the BATC facility is expected to attend.”

  “That’s it?” I closed my eyes and held back an angry sob. “You think that’s how we’re going to make this work? An annual booty call?”

  Roman sighed and tucked his face into the nook between my neck and shoulder, laying a wet kiss on my skin. “We have forever sprawled out before us. We don’t need to have all the answers today.”

  The words had comforted me before. When he said them the last time we spoke, right before hanging up on me, they had broken my heart. Now, they just pissed me off.

  “Get off me,” I said, shoving at him.

  He held me against the wall and tried to subdue me with another kiss, but I tilted my face away, forcing him to settle for my neck again. My breath labored as I writhed in his grasp, but Roman was a vampire now. A strong vampire who had been training new recruits at the bat cave all year.

  Tears stung my eyes, and the dim gallery lit up red at my mounting panic, revealing the firm line of Roman’s neck. It was so close. So inviting. My fangs elongated instinctively, and before I knew what I was doing, I struck.

  Roman’s breath hissed, and he went rigid against me. His hands slapped on the wall to either side of my head as I drank from him.

  His blood wasn’t the same, though I hadn’t expected it to be. I just thought...maybe...it would somehow make things right between us. Instead, it made everything so very wrong.

  The Eye of Blood retraced his steps back to the last time Vanessa had anointed him as a human. She was angry, standing in the middle of a bedroom in a black bra and panties. Tears ran down her face, and then her hand lashed out, and I felt my head jerk to one side, felt my cheek burn from her touch.

  “I’m sorry,” I said with Roman’s voice. Then my hands were on Vanessa, touching her face and her hip. My mouth met hers, lips catching on her fangs. Her tongue slid inside my mouth, lapping at the trickle of blood.

  I didn’t want to see any more, but I couldn’t stop the vision no matter how hard I tried. Once the eye was triggered, it had to run its course. And every second of it destroyed me.

  As soon as it ended, and I was back in my own skin, I released Roman. My fangs retracted, and I covered my mouth, panting.

  Roman touched the side of his neck with the palm of one hand, then pulled it away to gauge the damage. The holes were already sealing, but two faded marks remained, smeared with his spoiled blood.

  “What did you see?” he asked.

  I lowered my hands from my mouth and swallowed. “Enough.”

  “It didn’t mean anything,” he said, reaching for me again. I pushed away from the wall and headed for the door. I couldn’t be here anymore. I couldn’t look at his face or this room for one more second. And I never, never wanted his blood in my mouth again.

  “Jenna.” Roman’s hand squeezed around my arm, but I jerked it free and wrenched the door open.

  “Your Grace,” Vanessa greeted me with an unsurprised sneer. She glanced over my shoulder to where Roman stood, suddenly more interested in the toes of his shoes than me. Vanessa’s eyebrows arched as she noticed the marks on his neck.

  “I was just leaving,” I said, trying to step around her.

  “Still putting your fangs where they don’t belong I see.” She smirked at my guilty wince. “Don’t worry, green fang. In fact, drink up.” She cocked her head at Roman. “You’ll forgive me if his nectar isn’t as sweet or satisfying as you remember. Seems I had the last of his living blood before you went and got him killed.”

  “I have somewhere to be,” I said, trying again to escape the gallery.

  “Oh, pardon me, Your Grace,” Vanessa said, sweeping the tulle skirt of her dress back in a disdainful bow so I could pass.

  I fled down the hallway, eager to find Mandy. I needed a hug from someone I could count on, from someone I could believe cared about me. As I spilled into the ballroom, it was Dante I ran into first.

  “Ms. Skye.” He took in my face with startled surprise and immediately pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his suit. “Let me,” he said as I reached for it.

  “Where’s Audrey?” I asked, glancing around the room.

  “With Ursula and Mandy. She’s perfectly fine.” Dante turned me toward one of the outer walls, hiding my face from the bulk of the crowd as he ran the silk cloth under my eyes and over the corners of my mouth where I suspected there was smeared lipstick and dried blood. His eyebrows arched sullenly at the evidence.

  “I ran into Roman,” I said, unable to bring myself to lie to him. “And now I wish you hadn’t killed him so I could have tonight.”

  “Did he harm you?” Dante asked, the sorrow in his expression melting into wrath.

  “No more than I harmed him.” I blushed and took the handkerchief from Dante, rubbing it more vigorously at my mouth. “Any sign of our special guest?”

  Before he could answer, the doorman shouted over the din of the crowd.

  “His Highness, the Prince, and Her Grace, the Duchess of House Lilith.”

  I tucked the handkerchief back into Dante’s pocket and tried to fluff it the way Ursula had at the manor before we left. It was useless, but the duke didn’t try to fix it when I was done. He was too distracted by the hand signal Murphy was giving him from across the room.

  “Showtime,” I said, taking the arm Dante extended to me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  KASSANDRA PAINTED AN elegant, innocent picture in the mouth of the foyer. She wore a high-waisted, Jane Austen-esque gown, her dark curls secured with a satin ribbon. Her Mr. Darcy, the prince, stepped in beside her, holding out his arm for her to take. They turned and stared across the room at Dante and me, our postures eerily mirroring theirs.

  I felt Dante’s arm tense under my hand. “He will not like this,” Dante said.

  “But it has to be done.” I smiled weakly as the prince nodded at us. “You’re not having doubts, are you?” I whispered.

  Dante pressed his lips together and tilted his head closer to mine. “If ever there were a worse time for doubt, I cannot fathom it.”

  “Agreed.” I dipped into a proper curtsey as the prince and Kassandra stopped in front of us. “Your Highness, Your Grace,” I greeted them.

  Kassandra gave me an odd smile, and I realized she was trying very hard to mask her scorn. I’d upset her plans to get rid of Ursula—more than once.

  “Happy All Hallows’ Eve, brother,” Kassandra said to Dante. “I was hoping to meet your future baroness tonight. Lili failed to mention that you were bringing the duchess tempus instead.” She gave me another smile that wasn’t a smile
at all, but I returned the expression the best I could.

  “Oh, Audrey is here. The princess, as well. Somewhere,” Dante said, waving a casual hand out at the crowd. “She accompanied my pending scion to the powder room. You know how ladies can be.” He tossed a wry smile at Alexander.

  The prince laughed and touched Dante’s shoulder affectionately. “We are eager to meet your chosen. You will make an exceptional sire.”

  “You flatter me.” Dante blushed, and I suspected the praise had further wounded his resolve. Alexander was the one hiccup that could ruin our plans tonight.

  Kassandra pulled gently at the prince’s arm. “If you’ll excuse us, we must pay our respects to the dear queen before the new Blood Vice recruits line up for their turn.”

  “We were just on our way to do the same,” Dante said, the good cheer fading somewhat from his voice. “After you, sister,” he added, opening his hand to the side.

  Alexander smiled again and then let Kassandra tug him through the crowd. Every head along the way dipped with respect as the guests parted for our regal parade.

  Right before we reached the doors to the throne room, Ursula and Audrey appeared.

  “Cousin,” Ursula offered the prince her hand. He gave her a tight smile but followed through with the proper greeting and kissed her knuckles.

  “We missed you at Midsummer,” Kassandra said to the princess, dropping the mandatory inch to show her respect.

  “Of course you did, poor dear.” Ursula gave the duchess a pitying smile. “Well, don’t you worry. I’ll be at every ball from here on out.”

  Kassandra’s fake smile didn’t fail her, but a tendon in her neck bulged, straining against her pale flesh. “Wonderful,” she said breathlessly, green eyes smoldering.

  I traded spots with Audrey, releasing Dante’s arm so she could take it. Tonight, before the queen, my place was at Ursula’s side.

  Kassandra’s attention fell briefly to our matching outfits, and her eyes widened with some awareness that I didn’t grasp until we entered the throne room. Ursula’s green and black theme was reflected in the décor, and then I realized it wasn’t her color scheme at all—or, at least, the princess’s scheme had nothing to do with party colors.

  The queen sat on her throne, elevated on a dais in the back corner of the room. Her elaborate gown was clearly another Vionnet creation, also done in the green and black that everyone was dressed in—everyone besides the prince and Kassandra.

  I had to admire Ursula’s ability to keep this little nugget of pettiness under wraps all this time. It didn’t change anything in the plan, but any surprise, no matter how small, disrupted the calm I was desperately clinging to. I gave Ursula a wide-eyed glare that she ignored as she greeted the queen.

  “You look lovely, Your Majesty.”

  Lili’s sharp gaze took us in, lingering longer on the prince and duchess before drawing back to Ursula. She didn’t say anything, but the knowing look on her face suggested that she was onto the princess’s biting game.

  “Is this the one?” Lili asked. She stood and walked down the steps of the platform. As she neared, everyone dropped into the proper bow or curtsey, including me. Ursula’s lessons were paying off. Although, the nerves eating me alive stunted my pride.

  Dante led his prospective scion forward by the hand. “I give you Audrey Anne Moore of Darkly Hall,” he said.

  The queen hummed to herself, and then her thumb and forefinger snatched Audrey’s chin, drawing a soft gasp from the girl.

  “Open,” Lili demanded. Audrey obeyed instantly, and the queen leaned in closer to examine her teeth, testing a finger to the underside of each canine. “You’ll have a strong, clean bite when you’re reborn.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” Audrey said, curtseying a second time as soon as the queen released her face.

  Lili fingered one of Audrey’s strawberry curls next, and a shadow of a smile touched her mouth. “Darkly does love their redheads,” the queen mused. “A tribute to Lilith’s eternal beauty, I presume.”

  The vision I’d had the night Lili anointed me was my only glimpse of the ancient queen, but it was memorable. With Lili’s comment, I could see the resemblance now. Audrey was a younger, innocent version of Lilith.

  “My lovely sire,” Alexander said as the queen stopped in front of him. He kissed her hand, and I watched as the tendon in Kassandra’s neck flexed. Lili seemed to notice, too.

  “Now that your firstborn has found a suitable human to sire,” the queen said, “I expect your second to begin interviewing potentials, too.”

  Alexander swallowed, and his brows drew together somberly, reminding me a bit of Dante. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

  The doors to the throne room opened suddenly, and the roar of the party filtered inside as the duke’s guards dragged a man before the queen. Murphy and Donnie held the man’s arms behind his back and forced him to his knees. I noted the freckle under his right eye, the pronounced cupid’s bow and angular chin. He looked just like the sketch—though his eyes were a dark brown.

  Dante waited until the throne room doors had closed again. Then he said, “I believe the duchess began interviewing prospects some time ago.” The corners of his eyes drooped as he looked at Alexander. “I regret how this had to be done. Forgive me, sire. But it is better to seek mercy from the queen than undergo a public spectacle from the council.”

  Lili watched silently, waiting for the punchline with a mildly annoyed look on her face.

  “Phillip?” the prince said, looking down at the restrained man. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Kassandra’s breath heaved violently. She glanced back at the double doors as if she were ready to bolt, but the prince took her hand in both of his. His eyes consumed her, begging for an explanation—for an answer that would refute Dante’s claim.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Kassandra hissed. “It’s a lie, of course. Your precious duke has never liked me.”

  Dante stepped in closer to the man—Phillip—and placed a hand on top of his head, tilting it back so his dark eyes stared up at Dante. A faint ring around the man’s brown irises revealed how he was hiding his half-sired status. Dante ran a thumb over the surface of one of the man’s eyes, rubbing the contact free and revealing the pale gray iris beneath.

  “Kassandra,” the prince scolded. She ripped her hand out of his and turned to snarl at Dante, her fangs budding beneath the curl of her upper lip. “You’re a liar! You anointed him yourself so you could ruin me. Tell them, Phillip!”

  Phillip’s mismatched eyes glared up at her, but he obeyed. “I am a spy of the duke’s,” he said with resentful conviction.

  “Would I hire a spy to slaughter my potential scions?” Dante asked. “We have a witness who saw you take the life of Ingrid Kelley, the potential scion I chose from Bathory House—the same witness you tried to blackmail into bugging my home in Ladue.” Dante’s stare rose to meet Kassandra’s. “You had them murdered until you found one weak-willed enough to do your bidding.”

  “Lies! All lies!” Kassandra cried, balling her fists. “The only thing I am guilty of is trusting one of your snakes in my garden.” She glared down at Phillip. Her contempt was raw and honest, but I imagined it had more to do with the fact that he’d been caught—that she’d been caught.

  Dante gave Kassandra a pitying frown. “I am still one step ahead of you, sister.”

  Another door on the opposite side of the room opened. Two of the queen’s guards entered the room, pushing in a pair of coffins on wheeled carts. A costumed servant followed them with a tray containing the queen’s ceremonial dagger. It had been polished and prepared for the initiation of the new Blood Vice agents, but Dante had other plans for it first.

  Phillip’s shoulders slumped at the sight of the coffins. He knew his name was on one of them, that it was his only ride out of this room. Dante put a hand on Phillip’s head again, but this time, he wrapped his other hand under the man’s angular chin.

&n
bsp; “No,” Kassandra gasped. “You can’t!”

  I held my breath, knowing what came next. One sharp twist and a grinding snap, and Phillip went limp in Murphy’s and Donnie’s arms. His head lolled to one side, a blue vein showing through his transparent flesh.

  Dante waved a hand at the servant carrying the queen’s dagger, beckoning him to come closer. “We need not argue. The truth is in the blood. Your fate is in the queen’s hands now,” he said, taking the blade from the tray. He dragged it across the side of Phillip’s neck, coating its sharp edge with the man’s blood.

  Dante laid the dagger back on the tray, and the servant offered it to the queen with a dramatic bow. The formalities around here were so tedious, I found myself longing for the casual comfort of the manor.

  Lili picked up the dagger, giving each of us a disappointed scowl before licking the blood from the blade. I knew how awkward and intense the visions could be. The idea of suffering through one in front of such a crowd unnerved me. The queen couldn’t have been happy about it either.

  Her eyelids flickered, and she stared blankly over the room, seeing things that were somewhere else, trapped in another time. We watched her with bated breath—all except for Kassandra. The duchess turned and made for the double doors we’d entered through, slipping past the duke’s guards while they were distracted.

  Alexander spun around, ready to give chase, but Dante grabbed the prince’s arm, holding him back. The visions never lasted long, though they could feel like forever. The queen’s dagger zipped through the air, right past Alexander’s devastated face. The blade caught Kassandra between the shoulder blades, and she went down with a wounded shriek.

  “Kassandra!” the prince cried. His fangs elongated, and his eyes filled with black as he broke free of Dante’s hold with a snarl. “Look what you’ve done!”

  “Alexander.” The queen’s back straightened, and she folded her hands under her breasts, the epitome of wrathful serenity. “Wait for me in my bedchamber,” she ordered him.

  He looked across the room to where the duchess sat slumped on the floor, the queen’s dagger still protruding from her back, blood slowly staining her dress. “But Kassandra—”

 

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