by Lily Luchesi
“I am not your dear,” Angelica said, her anger rising at every turn. She did not care if this man had seen the coming of Christ, he had no right to speak to her in such a manner. “Now, either you give me information or I send your head flying across this pretty room.”
The man simply stared at her, and she hated to admit that it was unnerving. It was one thing to be intimidated by Hell’s minions, but to be fearful around someone of her own kind, her subject, as it would be? Ridiculous. Those bottomless dark eyes were terrifying and intriguing. She wanted to run away and yet get closer at the same time.
“You really should be more cordial to me, but I should have known better than to expect respect from you. No matter your form, you were always cruel and crass,” he said.
“My form?” Angelica was getting more and more confused every time this vampire spoke. “Look, you have my husband locked up. You trapped me, too. And now you give me some kind of crazy talk. I am confused, and that is not a state in which I like to spend much time. You recognized me as your Empress, so you obviously know who I am, but perhaps not what I am capable of.
“More than my physical prowess, however, I like to pride myself on my mind. You, sir, are making me feel as though my brain is in a mixer, and I don’t appreciate it. I do not think you are an enemy...at least, not of the typical kind I usually face. So may I ask, kindly, that you speak plainly so I may understand what it is you want with me?”
The man chuckled again, more genuinely amused this time. “I see. You are treating me like one of your ‘subjects’. Oh, Angelica, you have not been a true Empress for even a year yet, and somehow you see it fit to try and coerce me into giving information? Brazen girl.”
“Yes, I am brazen,” she agreed. “And I am also confused. You said you were an Emperor. Where of? Your accent is British, but I detect something else there. You might have adopted British tones, but you are definitely not a native of England.”
He nodded. “Astute. I will ask you once more, kindly, to sit.”
Angelica arched a brow. “This is you being kind?”
“Yes,” he said. “If you prefer I not be kind, I can go upstairs and let your mortal companion be persuaded into letting you and I have this conversation. Believe me, I am very good at coercion myself, Angelica.” Those dark eyes pierced her as he added, “But as a vampire, I am sure you know exactly what I am talking about.”
Visions of her “interrogations” flashed by like a highlight reel from Hell. Oh yes, she certainly did know what he was talking about. The only creatures who were better at torture than vampires were demons.
“Leave him out of this. Whatever this is, it is between you and I. He has the misfortune of loving me, but that does not mean he deserves to be hurt any more than he already has on my behalf.”
“Noble, protecting the mortal,” he said, scoffing lightly. “So, will you sit and oblige me?”
If it was a choice between taking a seat and watching Danny get tortured, she chose the chair, though she did not like sitting in the presence of someone who was obviously a dangerous individual.
“Now, I want you to speak to my plainly. No double-talk. Who are you, and why the Hell do you have a portrait that so resembles me on your wall?” she asked.
He waved his hand and she watched as a platinum tray carrying glasses and a bottle of what looked like wine on ice came floating toward them.
“Are you a wizard?” she wondered. She had met witches and wizards who had been turned into vampires. It only intensified their powers. Most of them went overboard and had to be executed.
“Technically, no. You are just two hundred, Angelica. We have many more abilities that can be unlocked as time goes on. Many of those abilities mimic magic. As of yet, you are just a baby to my eyes.” He reached across the table, but Angelica moved back, unsure of what he was going to do. “You know so little of our kind, despite having led us and protected us for two centuries. You are beautiful, brave, strong. A true Empress. But you have so much to learn. I do not know why your mother did not tell you more of your history.”
“She would not have known much. She was but a girl—not even having grown to adulthood yet—when her parents were killed by hunters. Whatever they knew, they were unable to tell her,” Angelica said.
Those dark eyes brightened. “Ah, that explains so much. I knew there had to be a reason why you seemed to be ignorant of your own history. Of our history. You are a descendant of Livia, the first Empress of the vampires...because she was the first female vampire.”
Angelica nodded. “I received such information last year. The first vampire Augustus wanted to be immortal, to have power. So he believed that drinking blood led to that power and immortality. It did, and he was cursed for doing so. Be it by God or another, I do not know. He turned his wife Livia before his line somehow died out. Hers went on, ending in me, the vamplet of prophecy.”
He nodded. “‘A vampire born on the side of the mortals’,” he quoted. “Yes, only she shall again be Empress, having both blood types running through her veins, as Livia did. I did not think you would ever come. I waited millennia for you, Angelica.”
“Excuse me?” The look in his eyes was no longer as cold as it had been. To call it warm would be an exaggeration, but there was something there that caused a spark to ignite in Angelica’s chest.
He waved his hand and two glasses began to pour, and Angelica saw it was blood, not wine, in the bottle. She was afraid to know how he came about that blood. Since she quit the PID, it was difficult for her to check up on her subjects individually and be sure they were using blood banks. Although Harriet was competent, there was now no accurate surveillance system in place any longer, and despite Angelica’s powers, she was only one woman.
“I have waited for thousands of years for you, my Empress. I am Augustus, and I am your rightful Emperor and Consort.”
Chapter Six
Angelica, fairly unflappable, nearly fell right out of her chair. Of course. How had she not seen it sooner? Some perceptive Empress she was. “You died. Livia killed you.”
He shook his head, chuckling deep in his throat. She wished he’d stop that. It was distracting, to say the very least. “As if she had the power to kill me, her Sire! She injured me, scarred me for eternity. It took me many long years to get my health back, and once I did, I saw the disgrace that became of my direct line. Bedding mortal upon mortal, until no traces of my vampiric blood was left. They disgusted me, and I stopped following them once they left Italy and came to America.
“But Livia’s line...she raised her children of the night correctly. All of them were strong female presences, but none of them were an Empress, not even your dear mother. It would take both mortal and vampiric blood to allow a new Empress to be born...and there you came.
“I have watched you for two centuries, unable to approach until your destiny had been fulfilled.”
Angelica was dumbstruck. She had known much of this information, how Augustus’ line had gone back to mortality, but he had watched her? Since birth? Stalked her family until the prophecy was fulfilled?
“First of all, that was quite creepy of you. Second, why did you wait? It has been three years since I was fully turned. What stayed your hand?” she asked.
Drinking from his chalice, he paused. “At first, I lost you after the battle in Scotland. And when I found you again, I could not be seen by Hell’s Lieutenant. I betrayed Lucifer, by accepting his contract and then breaking it with my own immortality. Once you neutralized Leander, I knew I could come to you as I wished, without threat of attack.”
That did not sound right. “So again you hid, instead of helping me fight off Hell? Leander has been dead for months. The only sign I received from you was a trail of dead mortals!”
He smirked, dark eyes glinting. “You were touted as the best hunter on Earth. I just wanted to see how good you were. I had not expected you to bring me prey.”
Angelica shot up from her chair. “Don’t you dar
e even think about touching Danny!” Emperor or not, all-powerful or not, he could easily be decapitated, and she would not let herself forget that fact. His neck was no more protected than hers. “I have my Consort, and he is being held in your little room up there. If you want any sort of allegiance with me, you will leave him alone. If you even attempt to harm one hair on his head, I will finish the job Livia failed at!”
In a flash, faster than even she could perceive, she was pushed up against the wall, next to the painting of Livia. Augustus was holding his hands on either side of her head, leering down at her, eyes so deep she felt as though he could sense her every thought. He was not touching her, yet she had never felt more trapped.
Her heart rate increased and she felt her breathing speed up. She was unsure if it was from fear or something else she could not bear to name. Angelica was used to being in complete control, even when facing Hell’s Lieutenant or demonic witches. The only time she ever voluntarily gave up that control was to Danny, whom she trusted implicitly. Here, with Augustus, she felt as though all her control had been shattered. She despised this feeling, but knew she was, at the moment, powerless to stop it.
“The fact that you dare to threaten me shows that you are indeed my true Empress. Beautiful, strong, and stubborn.” His voice was a low growl in her ear, and she felt his breath tickling her neck, sending shivers down her spine. His thrall was incredible, and she could not believe that she could also do this with just a few words one day. His voice was silky and dark, undoing her mind there in that comfortable dungeon.
She dug her nails into her palms, briefly cutting the skin, grounding her to reality. She must not allow him to glamour her, or else it would be over.
“I am not yours,” she spat at him. “I never will be. I don’t give a damn who my ancestor was, that does not predispose me to be your property!”
He shook his head. “Oh, my dear, you are not my property. You are my equal. My only equal on this Earth.”
That dark part of her mind, the part that had always sought power, was intrigued by the thought that she was the equal of the first true vampire. The rest of her was appalled that he would consider himself equal to her. He had left a trail of bodies in his wake for miles across Chicago, and Lord only knew how many more in all the long years he’d lived. Any vampire who had to kill for food any time after the nineteenth century was evil, plain and simple.
“Do you know why I have to feed so much, so often?” His voice was low, naught but a purr. “It is because none can satisfy me for long aside from my Empress. I have just consumed two large goblets of blood. And yet you can feel, I am much colder than you are, and you have not had blood since you wakened.”
He touched her gently, running icy cold fingers along her cheek, down her neck, stopping at her pulse, which quickened at his touch. He was cold, far colder than she had ever been.
“That is not true,” she said, barely able to get the words out. “I am fully satisfied by Danny’s blood: one pint, twice a day.”
“Liar,” his voice slithered into her ear. “You cannot take that much blood from a mortal daily. He would be dead after a week.” His fingers pressed harder into her throat, and she knew he felt the Undead blood rushing in her veins just as much as she could hear his. “You have no idea what it feels like to be truly sated. Indeed, it has been so long, I almost forgot myself.”
Angelica knew what was coming, and she felt him move back, just for a second, giving her enough time to move away from his proximity. If asked, she would say she did not remember why she stayed put, except for the fact that she was genuinely curious about what was going to happen next.
With one cold hand, Augustus held her head to the side and sank his fangs deep into her long neck. She felt it all in slow motion: the first initial pain of tearing flesh, the shock of her blood being drawn into another’s body, and the rush of pleasure she received from those two sensations mixed together.
She gasped at the sensations, the pleasure-pain. She had never been bitten fully, just a nip here and there from perps trying to take her blood and the powers it held for their own. This was an entirely new sensation rushing in her heart and mind, her body betraying her thoughts. All she wanted was to lose herself in this feeling, but her mind grounded her to the situation, barely.
She felt him chuckle against her skin before he pulled his mouth away from her neck, licking the blood that dripped down her creamy flesh. When he faced her, she saw through glazed eyes that her dark blood covered his lips, sending a jolt of heat to her stomach. Traitor, she thought viciously to her body.
His hand still held her face, but it was no longer as cold as marble. It was warm, as warm as Danny was when he held her. It was hard to believe that she had done this, that her Undead blood had given life.
“Nothing more invigorating than the lifeblood of your soul mate,” he said. “Do you want to know how it feels?”
Yes. “No.”
He laughed again. “You are not very convincing, Angelica.” He held her at the waist, and his touch was feather light, but with the promise of brute strength there in his lean frame. She knew he could kill her with a look if he wanted to. The idea terrified and thrilled her. Fiona and Leander had been challenges for her, but not equals. He held his other hand up, letting her go for a second to undo the cuffs of his jacket and shirt sleeve, exposing his wrist. Evidently, he did not trust her near his throat. Smart man.
“Taste and you will understand,” he said, holding his wrist close to her mouth.
Blood was power. His powers lay in what ran through his veins, and he was a fool to offer even a taste of that power to the Empress. Yes, she wanted a taste, but not to feel life. She wanted to feel his power in her veins.
Feeling her fangs elongate with little mental encouragement, she leaned forward and placed them over his veins, piercing the skin. She tasted his blood, warmed thanks to her, and it was like electricity and fire, and like the finest wine it sent a warmth throughout her body. However, this was not a new feeling for her. This was how Danny’s blood made her feel every day, every time she tasted him: satisfied and lively. Alive.
She moved her mouth from his veins and went to speak, but before she could get a word out, his lips covered hers, mingling their blood together in one incredibly hot kiss. The feeling of tasting her own blood was somewhat uncomfortable, but she could not deny the perverse pleasure she was feeling. It was not unlike how she felt when she kissed Danny after drinking from his veins.
Danny!
Her mind struggled to get out of the deep thrall Augustus had her under, and she felt her vampire claws dig into his arm, tearing the fabric of his expensive clothes in the process.
Growling in pain, he moved back quickly, dark eyes burning red. Just red irises, not like the black and red of a normal vampire. Angelica made a note of that, right before she noted the fact that she was most likely about to be murdered in a second.
Surprising her, he simply massaged the wounds that were already healed. His blood dripped from her fingertips, deepening the red of the carpet.
“Cunning, using such a physical moment to attack me. You intrigue me, Angelica,” he said, his eyes returning to normal.
“You glamour me into being pliant, and yet you call me cunning? You tried to fool the Empress! I might intrigue you, but you impress me,” she replied, maintaining the outward calm and in control appearance she had always found to serve her well. To drive in her blasé outer appearance, she licked his blood from her fingertips.
He did not respond, and was even so bold as to turn his back on her as he pressed a button in the wall. Not a moment later, the thralled maid came to the dungeon door.
“Please escort the Empress to the exit. And make sure you release her...Consort.” If it was possible, he managed to imbue that one word with dripping sarcasm.
Angelica arched an eyebrow. “You are releasing us?”
“A true Empress cannot also be a captive, and by releasing your little mortal pla
ything, I believe I can expect a bit more cooperation and camaraderie from you than if I simply drained him to a husk as I would very much like to.” He smirked. “We are not done here, Angelica.”
“No, we are not,” she agreed. She turned, but he called her back.
“Just one more thing, my dear: at no point since we met have I ever consciously or otherwise tried to glamour you. Indeed, if I tried, I would find myself unsuccessful. Neither of us can put the other in thrall. It is impossible. You cannot glamour your soul mate.”
Unable to think, shocked by his statement, Angelica followed the girl back the way she had come, stopping outside of the faux room where Danny was being held. The girl pressed a button and the door swung inward, revealing the room and the agitated man pacing inside.
“Oh, thank God!” He dashed to the door, grabbing Angelica into a warm embrace.
Angelica hugged him back, careful not to injure him. The strength in her veins made any small pressure upon his mortal frame dangerous and inadvisable. She felt his lips on her neck, pressing but the softest of kisses there, opposite where Augustus had bitten, and sighed.
“Do I want to know what happened?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Perhaps not now, though there is much to tell you.” She let him go and they followed the girl to the exit and she silently shut the door to the manor behind them, leaving them in the cool Chicago spring night.
Angelica took a deep breath of fresh air, trying to clear her mind of everything that had just happened. Between the information she had received and the slightly more physical aspect of the night, her entire being was in a muddle.
“Angelica!” Danny’s frightened cry shook the cobwebs loose. “You were bitten?”
