by L.H. Cosway
As I sit in the taxi on my way over to Ethan’s, my phone buzzes with a text from the man himself.
Are you on your way, my love? It reads.
Yes, I’m coming now. I write back quickly.
Another message pops up half a minute later. You will be tonight. His reply makes me snort and shiver at the same time.
Very self-assured Mr Cristescu, I’ve not yet agreed to stay over. A smug smile forms on my lips as I hit the send button.
It barely takes a second for his answering message, all it says is, You’re staying, Miss Stolle.
I snap my phone shut then, not bothering to write back this time, we’re almost at his house anyway. My entire body is alight with nervous excitement to see Ethan, even if I am basically going to be an intruder at this party. I really don’t want to think about what the vampires do to spies when they catch them. Going with Ethan tonight is the ultimate masochism of the emotions, it’s both pleasurable and painful to be around him. Painful because I know it can’t last. The pleasure side is quite obvious.
He’s standing outside by his Cadillac when I arrive, dressed all in black, it really is a sight to behold. Ethan’s golden hair stands out even more so against the sleek blackness of his designer suit. I can feel my knees going weak just looking at him. He walks to the taxi and opens my door for me, taking my hand to help me out. Oh what a gentleman this vampire can be. Then he pays the driver, before escorting me into his shiny, silvery black car.
“Allow me,” he whispers, taking the seat belt and strapping me in. It reminds me of the night we first met, when he’d done almost the exact same thing. I notice him grinning slightly, he must be remembering too.
“Is Delilah going to be at the party?” I ask, wondering how the dhamphir is doing. She’d been in quite a state the last time I saw her.
“Yes, she’s coming with Lucas and Dru. We’ll see them there.” Ethan answers, his eyes consuming me. “I have half a mind not to go. You look dangerously beautiful tonight Tegan, I don’t think I want to share your company with anyone else.”
I flush and look out the window. Not going to the party is rather tempting, but of course, I have a job to do, so there’s no getting out of it. I turn and look back at him. “We’ll have lots of time alone later,” I whisper. I can’t believe I’ve said it. Embarrassment seeps through my pores.
He lifts my hand then, and brings it to his lips, places a feather light kiss to my inner wrist and then lets it drop back down. He continues to hold it in his lap and my heart beats a mile a minute. It feels like only mere seconds have passed and we’re already pulling through the foreboding steel gates of Whitfield’s mansion. What is it with evil supernatural beings and mansions? Theodore had one too. Perhaps big houses provide them with a sense of power and grandeur. Or simply make up for smaller appendages.
A man in a pressed suit takes Ethan’s car keys as we get out of the vehicle. He hops right in and drives off around to the rear of the building. Ethan presents me with his arm and we enter the house. Another smartly dressed man welcomes us in, and I can hear the sounds of music and merriment streaming from the room just ahead of us. I’m so anxious right now. Ethan must notice that my heart is beating way too fast because he tilts his head to look down at me quizzically.
“I’m just nervous,” I tell him. “I’ve never been to a party like this before.”
He nods and smiles softly, pulling me closer to him by putting his arm around my waist, possibly to make me feel more secure. My heart melts.
We walk through a large entrance hall with the highest ceiling I’ve ever seen. There isn’t much furniture but there are lots of sculptures and paintings all about, as well as an ornate marble staircase. It’s cold and unlived in, like a museum.
We go through a hall then which leads to a massive ballroom, and even though I don’t admire Whitfield in any way, shape or form, I have to admit that his party impresses me. All down the centre of the room there are long tables, decked out with expensive silk cloth, silver candelabras and a banquet to die for. Beyond the tables is a beautiful ballroom dance floor, like something out of a period novel. Soothing music streams from the string quartet who play in the far corner of the large room. This place is so opposite to Crimson it’s almost laughable.
The food makes my mouth water, and the only thing that keeps me from running over and stuffing my face is the fact that there are hundreds of vampires present. All of them are seated along the tables, laughing and talking, drinking and eating. Some have human companions, others don’t.
A server comes and greets us before leading us to the head of the main table where Whitfield, Eliza and many other important looking vampires are enjoying themselves. Lucas, Delilah and Dru are there too. Delilah has a long white dress on, it makes her look ethereal, like some kind of goddess come to earth. Dru wears a white shirt under a silky black waist coat, I think that’s about as dressed up as she’s willing to get. Eliza doesn’t look happy when she spots me, but I do my best to be brave and not allow her hostility to affect me.
I meet her eyes steadily, which takes every ounce of courage I have inside of me. She’s wearing an elegant dark purple dress, and her caramel hair is piled up high on her head, curls fall down framing her regal face. I wonder if she’s decided to defy Ethan by going ahead and informing her father of our unconventional relationship. Unconventional in the sense that I have never once provided him with blood.
Ethan pulls a chair out for me which is situated directly across the table from Eliza. Great. Then he takes the seat beside mine and nods for one of the servers to fill our glasses with wine. I opt for the white, since there’s something too blood-like about the red wine that’s currently being served. Most likely that’s just my over-active imagination.
“Ethan, my good friend,” Whitfield says in greeting, his voice is full of happiness. He actually seems a small bit drunk. Celebrating his victory a little prematurely, I would think. He’s going to be lethally angry if Finn is successful in rescuing Pamphrock. “Welcome, and you’ve brought your dear human companion.”
He turns to plant his gaze fully on me now. “My dear, you look positively ravishing.” His eyes are too intense, too full of something I can’t quite put my finger on. Patient determination perhaps. I pale at the idea of Whitfield biding his time until Ethan loses interest in me so that he can swoop in and claim me as his blood donor. If he knew the truth about me I don’t think he would be quite so patient.
“Thank you, sir,” I reply in a very small voice. I sip on some wine, and even though it’s probably the most expensive wine I have ever drank, it still burns as it goes down. This situation is just way too much for my nervous disposition. I’m carefully avoiding Eliza’s eyes as she glares daggers at me from across the table. She obviously isn’t pleased with her father paying me compliments.
She’s not at all discreet when she whispers under her breath, “Human whore.” Some of the vampires at the table have heard her. I think she might have had a bit too much to drink also, and didn’t realise that her remark would be noticed.
“Eliza!” Whitfield snaps. “Where are your manners?”
Eliza’s eyes blaze red as she stares intently at her father, most of the others seated at our table are carrying out their own conversations, so they aren’t paying much attention to what’s going on.
“That filth shouldn’t be here during your happy celebration, father, I apologise for being rude, but it’s the truth.” She sneers at me now, and her glowing red eyes make her look hungry. I hastily knock back the rest of my wine, and a server immediately appears to refill my glass. I look to him gratefully, I’m going to need a whole lot of Dutch courage to get through this night.
“Humans are what keep us alive dear daughter, you need to learn to respect that.” Whitfield replies, his vigilant eyes taking in the mechanics of the situation. Perhaps he’s taking note of the reason why Eliza hates me so much, and that’s because I’m an obstacle in the way of her and Ethan getting it
on.
I feel so awkward right now, I turn to Ethan and whisper, “Perhaps I should leave.”
He grips my hand and shakes his head. He doesn’t seem at all uncomfortable with the tension I’m causing by being present at the table. “You’re not going anywhere,” he replies quietly.
“What are you two whispering about?” Eliza hisses.
“I can see this getting old very soon,” I hear Lucas remark casually to Dru, who’s sitting beside him. She nods and grins, settling in to watch the drama unfold.
“It got old long before now,” says Ethan cuttingly to Lucas. I hadn’t realised he heard too because he’d been focusing his attention on Eliza.
I glance over at Whitfield, worried that he’ll get mad that Lucas and Ethan are being rude about his daughter. But he’s not mad, he’s sitting back in his chair, watching the exchange with a half amused, half bored look on his face. He catches me staring at him, and the boredom leaves his expression entirely, now he appears intrigued and his grin broadens.
Our eyes are locked in something of a challenge. It will be over my dead body that he ever gets to sink his fangs into me. Whitfield is powerful enough as it is, this city doesn’t need him being able to walk in the sun and becoming immortal.
Eliza glances between Ethan and Lucas and her anger seems to have increased tenfold. She screams and demands, “Stop talking about me like I’m not even here!” Her fangs have fully descended from her mouth, she stands and grabs her wine glass before hurling it at Ethan.
Yeah, Eliza’s hungry all right, hungry to have my guts for garters. Maybe even Ethan’s too. But he’s out of his chair, dodging the flying liquid before it has the chance to touch him. It splashes onto his vacated seat, making a terrible mess of the upholstery.
“Eliza, darling, please conduct yourself in a more lady like manner. I’m finding your attitude really very trying at the moment.” Whitfield says with a sigh, his honey coloured eyes reprimanding her. “You are ruining my joyous celebration.” He sounds like an angry housewife whose dinner party isn’t turning out the way she’d hoped. I have to make a conscious effort not to laugh.
Immediately, Eliza’s fangs retreat and the red leaves her eyes. She sits back down in her seat, whispering, “I apologise, Father.”
A server comes and wipes down Ethan’s chair, before carefully removing it and replacing it with a clean one. Ethan thanks him and sits back down, his expression cool and collected as though nothing has even transpired.
I watch as Whitfield picks a fancy silver knife up from his place setting, before tapping it three times to his wine glass. The loud sound goes ding, ding, dinging throughout the massive room. Immediately, all conversation hushes and the string quartet stops playing.
Whitfield makes a big show of clearing his throat before he stands and addresses the crowd. “My people,” he begins, “I would like to say a few brief words of thanks for your attendance here at my home tonight. It has been a long and bloody war, but finally victory is in our hands. We have lost many fine men and women to the battles, but their deaths were not in vain. Each and every one of them contributed to what we have now achieved, the entire city belongs to us, and what remains of the slayers, the dhamphirs, and the magic wielders will be erased from our world soon enough.”
That sounds an awful lot like ethnic cleansing to me, and I don’t like it one tiny bit. What right does Whitfield have to kill all those who remain on the North side just so that he can rule unchallenged? My eyes drift to Delilah, whose face is even paler than usual. I know exactly what she’s wondering, she’s wondering how she fits in with this plan of Whitfield’s. Our gazes meet and lock, she sees that I understand her predicament. I wish there was some way for me to communicate with her, to let her know that Whitfield’s victory is not as secure as he would like to believe.
I focus back on Whitfield’s speech, which seems to be drawing to an end. “I have many entertainments planned this evening, and I hope they will all contribute to your enjoyment. Now, let us eat and be merry, for after so many long years this city finally belongs to its rightful owners, the vampires.”
The gathering of vampires clap and cheer. I can’t bring myself to join them, even though I’m supposed to be pretending that I’m happy for them. I notice that Delilah isn’t clapping either. Then everyone begins to dig into the delicious spread of food that has been set out. For some reason my appetite has disappeared completely.
Ethan pulls his chair closer to mine and places one hand on the small of my back. In his other hand he has some kind of tiny pastry which he raises to my mouth. I meet his eyes and bite into it, it’s delicious, and yet still I can’t seem to enjoy it. This whole party is just plain wrong. I want to get my job done and get out of here.
The music has started up again and various couples take to the dance floor. Perhaps this will be a good moment to slip away and do what I came here to do in the first place. Just as I’m about to excuse myself to Ethan, I look up and find Whitfield standing before me.
He smiles at Ethan who returns the expression, then he looks to me. “Would you care to join me in a dance?” he asks, holding out his hand.
My heart literally drops to the floor like a ton of bricks. Panic sets in and I send Ethan a look of worry. He seems to take note of it when he turns to Whitfield. “I had hoped Tegan would share her first dance with me tonight, Jeremy.”
Whitfield brushes him off and says, “Nonsense, I’ll have her back to you in no time, my faithful warrior.” Then, quite abruptly, he grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet before leading me swiftly to the dance floor.
His grip is cold and I try to suppress the unpleasant shiver that runs through my body at his touch. When we are amid the other dancing couples Whitfield puts one arm around my waist, the other holds my hand up, so that we are dancing in the old fashioned way. Somehow I can’t imagine this vampire rocking out in a mosh pit. He’s wearing a silver grey suit that looks like it cost more than I earn in a year.
As he begins to lead me on the dance floor to the beautiful music that is playing, I can’t help but to look into his eyes. It’s like staring at a mangled corpse at the scene of a car crash, you want to look away, but you just can’t. Whitfield’s ancient eyes draw me to him in just the same way, and I know that the contact will not end well, but I can’t seem to pull my gaze from his.
“You know,” he says, twirling me around and then pulling me back to him, “I have always gotten what I wanted, no matter the price.”
“I can imagine,” I reply, trying not break down in terror. I don’t need to think too hard about what he’s referring to now.
“My warrior seems rather attached to you, but I think I can persuade him to give you up, eventually.”
“Why would you want to do that?” I ask, and I hate that my voice is all shaky.
“Because the promise of your blood is far too alluring,” he answers, his voice caressing me horribly, his breath slithering over my bare neck.
“I’m sure you have plenty of blood donors to keep you happy, having me won’t make much of a difference.” I try to sound nonchalant.
Whitfield’s grip on my hand tightens, as does his arm around my hip. “Wouldn’t you prefer to belong to the most powerful vampire in the city, rather than to his lackey?” Oh that’s rich, especially since Whitfield refers to Ethan as his “faithful warrior” to his face. I wonder what Ethan would have to say about how Whitfield speaks of him behind his back. In my head I think, I’d prefer to belong to my fucking self.
Instead I reply, “Power has never been much of a turn on for me, besides, I like Ethan,” just to twist the knife I gaze dreamily over at him where he sits chatting with Lucas. “He’s the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on.”
Whitfield’s gaze narrows and flashes red for a fraction of a second, but then he suppresses his anger and peers at me without any expression. A myriad of thoughts flash across his face, too quickly for me to decipher them.
“Might I cut in?�
�� Ethan’s silky voice requests a moment later. I breathe a sigh of relief that he’s come to rescue me from Whitfield.
“Of course,” Whitfield replies, pulling my hand to his lips and kissing it. Ugh. “Until we meet again, my beauty.” Then he slips away into a group of older looking male vampires. Then again, when I say old, I mean early to mid forties. I haven’t yet seen any truly old vampires, none who look a day over forty-five anyway.
Ethan puts both arms around my waist, pulling me dangerously close to his body. He sways me to the music and I rest my head against his chest.
“This party is exhausting,” I mumble into his pristine black suit.
Ethan ducks down a little and whispers in my ear, “Don’t worry, you’ll be in bed soon enough.” His breath causes electricity to spike right through me.
I pull back and look up at him then. I take a moment to admire his features, the deep, blue grey eyes framed by long, dark lashes. Strong jaw, olive skin, straight Roman nose, bottom lip fuller than the top. I try not to focus on why I’m doing this, but it’s futile. This could be the very last time he looks at me with want in his eyes. If I fail tonight he’ll discover what I have been doing and there will be nothing left but hate.
Tentatively, I initiate a soft kiss, grazing my lips across his. His breath catches a little, like he hadn’t expected me to kiss him first. He holds still and allows me to kiss him for a minute before he leisurely slips his tongue inside my mouth, then retreats and runs it over my lower lip. Colour fills my cheeks and I pull away then.
“I, um, I just need to use the bathroom,” I tell him, and he nods with a self-satisfied expression. He thinks I’m overwhelmed by him. Well, I am just a little bit. That tongue thing he did just now was hot. But I also need to set certain actions in motion. I glance back at him shyly as I leave in the ballroom to find that he’s still watching me, his eyes intense.
“Hurry back,” he calls, and I turn away, blinking back guilt ridden tears.
My conflicting emotions are becoming too much to take. I feel guilty for hiding what I’m up to from Ethan, yet I feel I’m doing the right thing by helping Finn to rescue Pamphrock, the slayers and Rebecca.
