Dance With Death

by Becca Vincenza

  Quick as a whip, Balthazar pricked my fingertip with his sharpened nail and let the blood well up. Slowly, savoring every second, he brushed his tongue against the blood, smearing it across his tongue. He rocked back, savoring my taste, and I scooted away from him, farther onto the bed. I picked up my hamburger, not sure I wanted to continue to eat, but craving a distraction from the sense of foreboding that settled over me.

  After I finished eating, Balthazar finally stood. When he insisted I take the bed for the night, I didn’t argue. Instead, I curled up, still wearing my jeans and sweatshirt. I didn’t want to lose the sense of comfort the extra layers provided until I absolutely had to. Tomorrow, I would have to wear something I’d never voluntarily wear. And who knew how long I’d be able to wear even that scrap of clothing?

  Sleep took me under, even with all my anxieties and doubts fluttering in my mind like overactive bees.

  ***

  Sunlight peeked over the edges of the buildings and blinded me as soon as I blinked my eyes open. I crawled out of bed and looked over at Balthazar who still slept.

  I grabbed my bag, which contained the customary outfit of a slave, or rather a blood slave. It wasn’t unnatural for blood slaves’ owners to lick their bites closed. It wasn’t a concern, especially since Balthazar was playing the part of a slave seller. But as I went to the bathroom and slid on the slip of white, I felt utterly exposed. I touched my onyx ring, a little strength whispering through my veins.

  Jason appeared behind me. “For us, right?”

  “Yes.” As I brushed my hair in the mirror, I realized with a start how much it had grown out, long enough now to drape over my shoulders. I would need to play the role of slave, which was not an affectation that came to me naturally. Hunching my shoulders protectively and trying to make myself as small as possible, I stepped out of the bathroom.

  “You look stunning, all things considered,” Balthazar complimented as he sat up from his makeshift bed.

  My stomach curled as I tried not to cringe at his words.

  “You should get ready. We need to leave soon.”

  “Of course, my deehire.”

  Chapter 22

  Sweat pooled at the base of my neck, and my heart stuttered in my chest. My feet were bare, and as the cold cement bit into the soles, I curled my toes to try and generate heat back into them. Balthazar stood quietly beside me as we waited for Nix’s contact, Travis to join us. He had texted Balthazar the location of our meeting just a little over an hour before. It seemed I’d covered more ground in this city in the last few days than I had since arriving. Shifting on my feet, I fiddled with the blood slave bracelets on my wrists.

  “Stop fidgeting.” Balthazar touched the intricate, far too ornate bracelets. The flashier the bracelet, the more expensive the blood slave was.

  A gangster with a shaved head pulled up on a motorcycle and eyed us both. His eyes landed on the bracelets, and his hungry gaze jumped over to Balthazar, who possessively gripped the back of my neck. His hold was gentle, but the meaning was profound. It said I was his to play with, his to sell if he wanted. The massive male, tattoos creeping up his neck from below the neckline of his shirt, got off his motorcycle and came closer. I tensed under Balthazar’s grip.

  “You must be Balthazar and Rowan. I’m Travis.” He held out his hand, which Balthazar ignored, but I took. He gripped my fingers and tugged me forward roughly. “You’re a slave now. Never undermine your owner. Do only as he asks. Remember that. We’re going into dangerous territory, little Curse Breaker.”

  I took a wobbly step back and remained silent, dropping my embarrassed gaze to his collarbone.

  “Good. We’ll take your car, since mine isn’t an option. I’m going to blindfold you, Rowan. Balthazar, do you understand your role in this?”

  “I do.”

  “The next hour will be very stressful. Don’t do anything dumb,” Travis instructed.

  The last comment felt directed toward me, and I glared at him under my lashes. I kept my thoughts to myself, though. I needed to prove to everyone I was strong enough to do this, which meant I couldn’t lose my shit every time a snide remark was thrown my way. The walk back toward the flashy SUV with black-tinted windows was quick. Once inside, Travis wrapped a blindfold around my head. To further our charade, the bracelet on my left arm was attached to a chain that shackled me to the car door. Even with the blindfold on, I closed my eyes.

  “How are you doing?” Jason asked, feeling his comforting presence beside me. I felt the flare of my powers and shook my head. I didn’t completely trust this Travis person, and I didn’t want him to know I had a ghost ally.

  “Rowan, you’re not going to like what happens next,” Jason whispered, his voice dark with anger. He’d confided that he didn’t remember much of what happened to him, but sometimes ghosts repressed memories, just as they did when they were alive.

  The SUV rolled to a stop, and I heard the soft whirr of a window rolling down, followed by Travis’s low voice as he spoke to someone. I couldn’t hear the words from where I sat in the back of the SUV, but I kept my head down and tried to remain as small as possible. I wanted to draw as little attention to myself as I could. The vehicle started moving again but only to park. The vehicle jerked to a stop, and since I couldn’t see to brace myself, my shoulder rammed up against the door. Swallowing a curse, I waited in the darkness for someone to unchain me.

  “Belly of the beast now. No backing out,” Travis warned from the front seat.

  My door opened, and I shivered as the cold air twisted around my bare legs.

  “I do not understand why shoes were unnecessary.” Balthazar’s disapproving voice came next to me.

  “Told ya, slaves don’t wear them. Makes it harder for them to escape, even for a Mystic. And depending on the type of Mystic, they’re supposed to have dampening metals on them,” Travis added, his voice fading as he opened his door and got out.

  The air smelled fresh and clean, so unlike what I expected. It seemed too nice to be the entrance to the Black Market.

  Goosebumps prickled my skin as Balthazar ran his fingertips over my bare arm, down to the wrist cuff that was still attached to the chain on the door. My line was taut, and I leaned toward the open door to give it slack. The cold tightened my nipples to tight buds, and I squirmed, uncomfortable knowing they were probably poking through the white slip I had to wear, the scratchy lace at the bottom of my slave uniform chafing my skin.

  As the pressure from the chain relaxed, I relaxed my arm, tamping down the uncontrollable desire to pull the blindfold down. Balthazar grazed cold fingers against my cheeks. I flinched at the suddenness of it, and he untied the wrap around my head. I blinked as the harsh sunlight hit my eyes. Once my vision cleared, I focused in on the view around me. Every inch of the place was filled by shadows and trees.

  “This...is not what I expected,” I muttered.

  “It’s glamoured with very powerful spells to keep others out, but we are in an actual forest. It’s safer than trying to conduct business where the Guard and human police roam all the time. Unfortunately, the location will change in a few weeks,” Travis explained as he joined us.

  Balthazar looked down at my bare feet and the ground with a distasteful grimace. I swung my legs out of the SUV and stepped onto the cool grass, causing a shiver to race up my spine.

  “Let’s go. The longer we linger, the more nervous people will become,” Travis encouraged. He led the way as Balthazar took over the chain that had been attached to the car door.

  The sunlight glinted on the metal links, and my stomach churned. The what ifs played in my head for a moment before I saw Jason walking next to me. My secret weapon. I touched the onyx ring, a reminder I wasn’t completely powerless.

  Once into the thick of the woods, the shadows seemed to wrap around us like a living thing. My feet were bruised and battered by the rocks, and I got very little relief from the intermittent patches of grass. Pressure built up in my ears like they w
ere about to pop, and then a second later, the world exploded with noise. We had arrived in the Black Market.

  Trying to keep in character, I kept my chin tucked to my chest and my gaze on my feet. I fought against my desire to see it all, noting every detail, so I could report anything that would take down the slavers. Travis and Balthazar walked side-by-side while I trailed meekly behind. The place was crowded, but it was spacious enough that no one bumped into each other. Probably a good thing, since some of the people walking around looked like they would kill you if you so much as looked in their direction.

  A series of canvas-topped booths were stationed along each side of the path, most of them set up where you had to pass a massive bodyguard to get inside. At one tent, I even saw a gargoyle stationed out front. The constant chatter of a marketplace droned around me, but there was an undertone of violence in most of the exchanges. As we walked past one tent, someone was shoved out and fell on his ass. The aggrieved Mystic bared his teeth at the man who kicked him out.

  “Come this way. Most of this is just petty stuff that the Council regulates,” Travis said quietly to Balthazar, who nodded in response.

  Balthazar wore a blank, expressionless look on his face. Cold and detached. A shiver of fear worked its way through me. Which was the real Balthazar?

  The promise I made to him hovered over my neck like a blade from the guillotine. I didn’t feel like I had the full story; it seemed like he expected more from me. Breathing deeply, I let the thought go and focused on the task at hand. We picked up our pace and moved deeper into the marketplace.

  Just then, the little hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I instinctively knew I was being watched. There was a peculiar feel to this stare, one I knew was different from the others I’d felt upon entering the marketplace. Peeking over my shoulder, I saw someone with their hood up, but it looked oversized and hid most of their features. I saw a delicate chin and a snippet of white-blonde hair.

  A nervous flutter went through my stomach, and without realizing it, I turned toward the figure. Willow? The figure stood alone between the trees, but it seemed to have her features. Someone called my name, but I didn’t listen. Instead, I remained focused. My wrist was pulled by the chain that stretched taut behind me. Still, I ignored it.

  “Slave.” The dark whisper in my ear made a shudder go up my spine. A body pressed against mine, his hand pressed firmly against my stomach, pushing me closer to his body. The stranger grabbed my hair and tilted my head to the side, pressing his nose against my skin. A tongue snaked out and left a trail of wet stickiness behind before I felt the pinch of teeth dimpling my skin.

  “Get off her. She’s still mine,” Balthazar growled and stepped closer, his once-blank mask morphed into one of unbridled fury.

  “She bears the mark of blood slave, brother. Does she not belong to us all?” The vampire behind me trailed his hand upward, bunching my slip and exposing even more of my thighs.

  I tried to remain complacent, but rage boiled under my skin. Magic crackled between my fingertips. I could feel it this time, and I knew that controlling the underling vampire behind me would be so easy.

  “Step away from her.” Balthazar’s blank look returned, but his gaze flickered to me for a moment. Could he feel the swell of power in me? How I wanted to latch my Lines around this vampire and force him away? Hell, I could force him to impale himself on a stake.

  “Calm yourself,” Balthazar directed that to me.

  “Brother, I am calm. Just want a taste, that’s all. She smells so unique. I wonder what she will taste like.”

  As he lowered his lips again and settled his fangs against my pulse, an involuntary growl worked its way up my throat. Anger flitted through my blood, and it took all my willpower to tamp down my powers.

  Balthazar’s icy voice cut like a dagger. “If you dare pierce your filthy teeth into what is mine, I will rip your fangs from your gums and force them down your throat. Get away from mine.”

  The underling vampire raised his head but kept his grip on my waist. “So, you brought your slave here to show off but not to taste?”

  Balthazar took a threatening step forward, but Travis placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Hands off. She’s going to auction soon and cannot be damaged.”

  “How long has she been in your care? She doesn’t feel very broken in. Tensed under my hands, and instead of fear in her scent, all I smell is rage.”

  Travis waved to me. “She is uncontrollable, has tried to escape multiple times, and my friend here has decided she’s not worth the effort. The offers we have received haven’t matched what we feel is worth such a unique acquisition.”

  “And what is that, exactly?” The vampire behind me tightened his grip.

  “A female necromancer.”

  The vampire sucked in his breath and dipped a little closer to me, excitement rolling off him in waves.

  “A Curse Breaker necromancer.”

  My heart thumped loudly in my ears, and I wouldn’t be surprised to hear it was audible to anyone within a fifty-foot radius. The vampire behind me twisted me in his grip and faced me head on. His eager red eyes met mine with open hunger.

  “A true treasure, indeed.” Desire filled his eyes. “Follow me.”

  Chapter 23

  Balthazar tugged me closer to his side once the vampire released me, though he continued to eye me as if wondering what would happen if he took a quick taste. He knew a compliant necromancer was the only way to form a bond, so even if he broke skin, it would be for taste only, because I wasn’t eager for it. The way his gaze kept dropping to my jugular, I was worried I wouldn’t be able to stop the throat punch I silently planned.

  The vampire threw one more longing look before stepping around us and leading the way. Balthazar exchanged a wary look with Travis, who only shrugged his shoulders. Apparently, this was the norm, but Balthazar didn’t seem comfortable with the idea.

  “Where exactly are you taking us?” Balthazar asked the other vampire.

  “To the man you will want to see about selling your blood slave.”

  He said the word like a caress. Like I should be proud of the title. Like I should want this. Rage burned under my skin. The market thinned and then crowds reformed as we walked through mazes of booths, tents, and other stalls. Mostly, it looked like a hodge-podge of specialty weapons, drugs that were off-limits, and other normal contraband items. But still, the frenetic pace of the Mystics and the shrouded air felt wrong.

  People kept a safe distance away from the vampires and Travis, but if I walked outside the safety of their bubble, Mystics bumped into me. Most sneered or growled in my direction as if it was my fault. Jason continued to walk next to me as people walked through him, occasionally sending me a keep-your-cool look. Ignoring his look, I continued.

  The three men were silent as we walked through a darker part of the forest where the air chilled, and wards tingled against my skin. My magic felt stifled, and much to my embarrassment, my knees went weak. Blinking sleepily, I looked over to where Jason should have been, alarmed to see he was barely there. Travis and the new vampire looked fine, but I noticed how Balthazar’s jaw tightened.

  “Power weakening wards. It’s pretty standard in this area. The stronger you are, the harder it hits you,” he said, taking another peek at me. He didn’t miss my misstep or the way I stumbled.

  Fewer people walked in this area, and those who did wore voluminous clothing that concealed their shape and identity. I felt utterly exposed. Wrapping my arm around my stomach, Balthazar tugged on the chain, resisting the movement I made. Gritting my teeth, I held back the retort that settled on my tongue.

  Even though this was all fake and Balthazar didn’t really own me, a sense of embarrassment and shame clung to me. Those around us looked down on me, considered me less than human. How normal blood slaves handled it, I didn’t know, but I imagined it was because of the high they got from being bitten and giving blood back in return.

 
“We are here. I will go in and speak with him first. If he’s interested, he will call you in. You may tie your slave up over there.” The vampire indicated to a post that would have been used for horses back in the day.

  My stomach dropped, sickness swirling within my core. The vampire ducked inside a nondescript canvas tent that looked startlingly familiar to all the others. Did they do that on purpose? Probably, so you couldn’t point it out from the others.

  Balthazar looked at Travis.

  “This is better than we could have hoped for. The vampire’s interest in her is good. You may be able to turn her over sooner than you thought,” Travis said, keeping up our ruse within earshot of the others.

  “Yes, she is far too troublesome to keep on my own anymore,” Balthazar replied smoothly, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

  Allowing my weakened powers to swell, I tried to feel for any dead bodies in the vicinity. It shouldn’t have been so shocking to feel as many vampires here as I did, but I was amazed by the amount of bodies nearby. Trying to produce my Lines caused my head to explode with pain.

  The lackey vampire poked his head out of the tent and looked at me, then glanced at the others with a raised brow. Lackey, as I thought of him now, gestured for Balthazar to enter.

  Balthazar moved in a blink of an eye to stand in front of me. He gripped my chin and forced my gaze upwards. “You will cease, or I will punish you right here in front of everyone.” Anger that didn’t seem fake flared in his eyes.

  I whimpered as his grip tightened as another warning.

  “Say it.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Balthazar twisted me in his grip, facing us towards the others. His chest heaved against my back as he forced my neck to the side just as the other vampire had. I struggled in his grip, the other vampire watching in rapt interest. Travis looked bored.

  “Now, slave, or I will take your blood.” Balthazar placed his other hand on my hip, his fingers firm but still gentle, even though his threat felt a little too eager. From what I’d heard, bites could go one of two ways. Painful or sexual. Neither was something I was willing to endure.