But it was rare for a Were-Hunter to be near a Dark-Hunter, never mind serve one. Since Dark-Hunters were created to kill their Daimon cousins, most Were-Hunters avoided them at all costs.
Most.
Retta looked over her shoulder to Francesca, who was now squirming uncomfortably. A bad feeling went through Retta as she realized that Francesca had befriended her just weeks after she’d fled Romania. They’d known each other almost fifteen years before Francesca had confided the truth of her existence to Retta.
Now she had a suspicion that sickened her.
“Lykos?” Retta asked Raluca. That was the Were-Hunter term for their wolf branch.
“Raluca is my mother,” Francesca said quietly. “Andrei and Viktor are my brothers – it’s why I never used a surname. I didn’t want you to realize I was one of the family.”
Retta couldn’t breathe as she stood there with her emotions in turmoil. Anger, hurt, betrayal. They were all there and they each wanted a turn at Raluca and Francesca, but most of all, they wanted Retta to beat her husband. “I see.”
“Please, Princess,” Raluca said, her bright blue eyes burning with intensity. “We’re only here to help you.”
“Then call me another cab and get me back to the airport ASAP.”
Francesca shook her head. “We can’t do that.”
Retta glared at her. “Fine then. I’ll do it myself.” As she moved toward the phone on the desk, Raluca pulled it away.
Retta saw the sympathy in Raluca’s eyes as she cradled the phone to her chest. “I’m truly sorry, but you can’t leave here, Princess.”
“Oh yes, hell I can and I am.” Retta started for the door, only to have Andrei block her path.
“You are in danger, Princess.”
She narrowed her eyes on him. “Not me, buddy. But you are if you don’t move out of my way.”
Francesca took a step toward her. “Listen to him, Retta, please.”
She turned on Francesca with a hiss. “Don’t you dare start on me. I thought you were my friend.”
“I am your friend.”
“Bullshit! You lied to me. Deceived me. You knew how I felt about Velkan and yet you never once told me that you serve him.”
Francesca glared at her. “Yes, Retta. Prince Velkan sent me to watch over you because he was afraid for you to be alone. As you’ve said repeatedly over the centuries, you were young and naive. You spent the whole of your life behind a convent wall. The last thing he wanted was for you to be hurt again, so I was charged with your care. Is that really a crime after all we’ve been through together?”
“I didn’t need a babysitter. How could you play both sides of the fence when you knew how much I hated him?”
Those blue eyes singed her with sincerity. “I never played you. Okay, so I didn’t mention that he’d sent me to stay with you originally. So what? We are friends.”
“Uh-huh. Friends don’t lie to each other.”
“What lie?”
“You said you never met him.”
“She has never met him,” Raluca said quietly. “I am the one who sent my daughter after you at the prince’s request. She was the one closest to your area when you left here. But Francesca has never met His Highness. Not once.”
That made Retta feel better than she wanted to admit, but still it didn’t rectify any of this. They’d all deceived her and she was too tired to play this game anymore. “It doesn’t matter. I’m going home.”
Andrei blocked her way again. “You are home, Princess.”
“Like hell.” She feinted to the right, then rushed left, past him.
He caught her in his arms before she could make it to the door.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Andrei, but so help me, I will.”
Before he complied, Francesca went to the door and locked it with a key. “You’re not leaving.”
“Damn you!”
“Look, spew at me all you want, but you need to be aware of why I brought you here.”
Retta crossed her arms over her chest. “Let me guess. Velkan wants to see me?”
“No,” Raluca said, joining them. “The only thing His Highness would like to see in regards to you, Princess, is your disembowelment.”
Now that surprised her. “Since when?”
It was Andrei who answered. “Since about halfway through the sixteenth century when it became obvious that you had no intention of returning. He’s been cursing your name ever since. Loudly, too, I might add.”
Raluca nodded eagerly.
For some reason Retta didn’t want to think about, that actually hurt her feelings. She’d assumed that all of his attempts to besmirch her father’s name and reputation had been his way of getting her to contact him. Of course, she’d had no intention of ever doing that since she still wasn’t convinced he hadn’t intended to kill her the night he’d given her his sleeping potion.
“Then why am I here?”
Andrei took a deep breath before he answered. “Because of Stephen Corwin.”
She was baffled by the name. How in the world could he fit into this madness? “The investment broker?”
“Among other things,” Francesca said. “Remember when I told you I had a weird feeling about him?”
“You have weird feelings all the time. Nine times out of ten, they’re attributable to either pizza or spoiled beer.”
Francesca gave her an unamused stare. “Yeah, right. Remember when I told you that his scent bothered me? That I couldn’t place it? Well, I did some checking and it turns out he’s a member of the Order of the Dragon. Sound familiar?”
Retta rolled her eyes. Both her father and grandfather had been members. Their epitaphs of Dracul and Dracula had stemmed from their membership. “That order ceased to exist not long after Velkan killed my father.”
Raluca shook her head. “No, Princess, it didn’t. They merely went underground and wanted the rest of the world to think that. It was a cousin to Mathhias Corvinus who lost his wife to a Daimon. Horrified by the demon who claimed her life and soul, he reestablished the order to purge the world of the undead. They went on a killing spree of Daimons, and he called for his brethren to help him. But they didn’t stop there. They killed our people and countless Dark-Hunters as well. They don’t distinguish between us. To them, one preternatural being is the same as the other and all of us should be exterminated. Even now, centuries later, they hunt us without discrimination, brutally slaughtering all they find.”
Retta felt terrible about that, but it still didn’t explain why they wanted her to stay here. “What has this to do with me?”
Francesca took a deep breath before she answered. “I think Stephen was sent to kill you.”
Retta scowled at her friend. “Are you insane? There’s no way.”
“Remember the tattoo on his arm you told me about? The one of a dragon coiled around the cross? It’s their emblem. He’s one of them, Ret, trust me.”
“Trust you? After all these centuries when you were lying to me? Think again. Stephen wouldn’t hurt me. He’s had ample time to try.”
Francesca gave her a deep, meaningful stare. “Are you sure?”
Retta hesitated, then hated herself for it. Stephen had never once given her an indication that he was anything more than an acquaintance who wanted to be more significant in her life. But since she was still technically married and an immortal, she’d kept him at bay. “Of course I’m sure.”
“Then why has he been sniffing around you?” Francesca asked coldly.
“Because maybe he likes me?”
“Or he was trying to use you to get to Prince Velkan,” Raluca said. “That has been my theory. It is why the prince made sure that all mentions of you and your mother were purged from historical records. He didn’t want anyone to learn that Vlad Dracula had a daughter, and most especially he didn’t want them to know that you had married him. He knew that The Order would pursue you to the ends of the earth if they ever learned of your existence.”
/> “It makes sense,” Andrei added. “The Corvinuses and the Danestis have a long history of bad blood between them.”
Still Retta discounted their argument. “This is not the Middle Ages, people. In case you haven’t noticed, the wars are over.”
“No,” Andrei said, glancing past her, toward the door. “I think the war is only beginning.”
Frowning at his dire tone, she turned her head to see what had his attention.
Her heart stopped beating as she saw the tall figure dressed in black armor, complete with helm and heraldry.
It was Velkan’s.
And he was heading straight for her.
3
Retta couldn’t so much as draw a breath as Raluca opened the door and Velkan swaggered in. At six foot four, he’d seemed like a giant to her when she’d been human. And again, she remembered the first time she’d seen him. Blood had coated that black armor. The blood of those out to rape and kill her. She could still recall the sound of steel scraping steel as he moved. The sight of his dexterity even though every inch of his body had been covered by armor.
More than that, she remembered the beauty of his face… the tenderness of his callused hands as they caressed her bare skin. The way he’d held her as if she were unspeakably precious, as if he feared she would shatter in his arms and leave him alone again.
Those memories surged and buried all the anger and hatred she’d nursed against him. There for a moment, she wanted to go back to the beginning of their marriage. Back to the days when she had lived and died for this man. When she had trusted him without question.
He had been her entire world.
She’d known this moment would come, and in her mind she’d practiced a thousand things to say to him.
A thousand and then some.
But every one of them fled her memory as he approached her and some foreign part wanted to embrace him after all these centuries. She wanted to rush into his arms and just feel him hold her again.
She’d expected him to curse her or kiss her. To stare at her as if he couldn’t believe she was here. To try to strangle her. Something. Anything. But in all her imagined scenarios nothing had come close to what he did next.
He walked right past her as if he didn’t know her and seized Francesca in a fierce hug before he danced around the room with her.
Baffled, Retta put her hands on her hips as a wave of rage whipped through her body. How dare he grab another woman and not even acknowledge her! She opened her mouth to speak only to be hushed as the knight started laughing in a tone that was nothing like Velkan’s. It was light and almost boyish.
“Oh, my little sister! It’s been far too long since I last saw you. How have you been?”
“Viktor,” Raluca said with a laugh. “Put Francesca down before you bruise her.”
Francesca pulled the bird-shaped helm from his head, exposing his laughing features, as opposed to Velkan’s serious countenance. With brown hair and teasing blue eyes, Viktor quickly complied with his mother’s orders and set Francesca back on her feet. Laughing, she hugged him close while Retta let out a long breath.
That had been close. Too close in fact and it made her realize that she didn’t want to meet Velkan on his terms. She needed to make sure that she had control of their first meeting. That her emotions and body didn’t betray her again.
“It’s so good to see you,” Francesca laughed at her brother. “I’ve missed you so much.”
And those words tugged at Retta’s heart as she saw the affection her best friend shared with her family. Retta’s own brothers had died hundreds of years ago, as had their entire lineage. There was no joyous homecoming for her. No parents.
No husband.
Nothing.
That hurt most of all.
Viktor paused as he realized that they weren’t alone. “Princess Esperetta?”
“Yes,” Raluca answered for her.
Panic flickered in his blue eyes. “We must get her out of here before the prince sees her.”
Finally someone who actually saw reason.
Raluca waved his words away. “He won’t come here this early.”
Viktor shook his head in denial. “She can stay the night, but come the morrow, she needs to leave before he learns that she is here.”
Francesca argued with him, “I brought her here for protection. She must stay.”
“No,” Retta said, growing tired of the way they spoke about her like she was a lost puppy who was out in the garage. “I came here because Velkan is planning on putting my father’s remains on display.”
They exchanged a puzzled frown as Francesca turned a bit sheepish.
Absolute rage tore through Retta’s entire being. “Don’t tell me you lied.”
Francesca cringed. “Only a little. I knew if I told you that, that it was the one thing that would get you to leave Chicago.”
In all her life, Retta had never been more livid. “Unbelievable! Un-friggin’-believable. How could you do such a thing?”
Francesca was completely unrepentant. “I did it to protect you.”
Retta held her hand up as pure disgust filled her. “Thanks, Frankie. It’s not like I have a life as well as clients who need me.”
“You can’t have clients if you’re dead. Besides, Trish is handling them. They won’t even miss you.”
“Save me the bullshit.” She looked at Viktor. “Get me a cab and I’m out of here. Right now.”
He started for the counter.
“Viktor,” Raluca said in a thick, drawn-out accent. “Touch that phone and you will regret it for the rest of your existence.”
He arched both brows as he froze in place. “But Mother… the prince will – ”
“I will deal with the prince. You need to prepare yourself for the tour. Now go.”
Retta could tell he wanted to argue but didn’t dare. Instead, he cast a sullen look her way before he complied with his mother’s orders.
“Where is Velkan?” Retta asked Raluca.
“Not to be flippant, Princess, but he is wherever it is he wishes to be.”
“You won’t tell me?”
Raluca hesitated before she answered. “I will not allow you to blindside him in his home after all he has suffered for you, Princess. I know of your feelings toward him from my daughter.”
“And still you side with him?”
Raluca’s gaze went toward the blunted spike tip on the wall. “I will protect His Highness with every breath I hold in my body. But for him, I would have been impaled, too.” And with those words spoken, she turned around and left Retta alone with Francesca and Andrei.
Retta gave Andrei an expectant look.
“He will be in the Bloody Dungeon later.”
“The what?”
“It’s a club,” Francesca explained. “One where Daimons tend to pick off tourists who want to meet real vampires.”
Well, didn’t that make perfect sense? “What time does he go there?”
Andrei shrugged. “Any time between now and dawn.”
“You are just so helpful, Andrei.”
“I try to be, Princess.”
“And you fail with such panache.”
He ignored her sarcasm.
Sighing, Retta looked at Francesca. “I don’t suppose I could talk you into just poofing me home again, could I?”
“You don’t like to teleport. It makes you queasy. Besides, I thought you didn’t like me anymore.”
“I’m bordering on it. But you are the only family I have. Good or bad, and right now it’s definitely bad. Let me go home and I will forgive you.”
“I can’t do that, Retta. Sorry. But trust me, this is for your own good.”
Fine then. Come morning, she’d slip away from them one way or another. She looked back at Andrei. “We are one hundred percent sure Velkan won’t come to this hotel, right?”
“Oh, I can absolutely guarantee it. He wants nothing to do with your family. He only ventures here once in a blue
moon.”
That just made her all warm and toasty inside. “Then why do you run this place?”
He grinned at her. “The money. We make a killing on it.”
Great, just great. “Whatever. I’m going to bed now. Give me a key and let me put this whole nightmare behind me.”
Francesca frowned. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“No. I just need to sleep and forget this whole day has happened.”
Andrei went behind the counter to sign her in. “Would you like Dracula’s Suite?”
Retta narrowed her eyes at him. “Keep pushing, Andrei, and you and I are going to play a game.”
“And what game is that, Princess?”
“Find the Ball in My Hand.”
He frowned. “I don’t see a ball, Princess.”
“Oh, you will, just as soon as I snap it off your body.”
He flinched.
Francesca laughed. “She’s teasing, Andrei. Her bark is always worse than her bite.”
Wishing she’d left her friend at home, Retta took the key card from his hand. “Where’s the room?”
“Top floor.”
Without a word, Retta grabbed her suitcase and headed for the elevator. She got in and turned around to see Francesca and Andrei teasing each other as the doors closed. Pain sliced her heart. How she wished she could have her family back again. She’d adored her two little brothers. They had been one of the greatest joys of her human life. And a twinge of guilt went through her that she’d deprived Francesca of hers. She hated they’d been apart all these centuries.
But that had been Francesca’s decision, not hers.
Sighing, she rode the elevator up to the room, and as soon as she pushed open the door she felt the need to go downstairs and hurt Andrei and Raluca. To say the place was tacky would be an insult to tackiness. The suite was large and airy, with blood-red walls that were decorated with every kind of woodcutting imaginable that depicted impalements.
She rolled her eyes as she headed for the bedroom, then stopped dead in her tracks. Unlike the sitting room, this one was done in black, white, and gray and was identical to the bedroom from Bela Lugosi’s Dracula, where he’d bitten his fair maiden.
Dark Bites (Dark-Hunter World) Page 28
