by L. Rosario
Dr. Reynolds looked disinclined to answer as he backed toward the door. “I'll be back."
"No!” Valentino nearly blacked out as he reared up in bed. “Tell me wh-what's wrong."
"I don't know for sure."
"But you h-have a theory."
Dr. Reynolds shoved his hands into the pockets of his lab coat and bowed his head. Was he afraid to see how Valentino would react to whatever bomb was about to drop? What could be worse than hearing you were to die in a few days? “I believe you are beginning to transform."
Transform? Into what? He couldn't force the questions out.
The doctor lifted his head and shook it sadly. “I was under the impression one had to ingest their blood to undergo a change, but I must be wrong."
Valentino fell back onto the pillow. It was all way too clear now. “I did,” he said quietly.
"You did what?"
He answered without taking his eyes off the ceiling. “I swallowed her blood. She bit her lip. It bled. I kissed her. The taste ... it was good.” He closed his eyes and recalled the ecstasy of the moment. He'd do it again.
"You've damned yourself then, CF19, and there is nothing I can do to help you."
Strange to hear the doctor speak of damnation when he was responsible for stealing the souls and free will of so many.
"It's a hazard to the others to have you here, but clearly the gas chamber will not kill you now.” The doctor actually sounded disappointed. Did he enjoy tossing men into the damn gas chamber? “You'll be eliminated another way."
Valentino jerked his head off the pillow. “H-how?” Jesus Christ, was the man going to put a stake through his heart?
"I've read decapitation is the only proven method of killing a vampire."
Somehow the stake sounded better. “I'm not a vampire."
"Yet,” Dr. Reynolds added. “It is not the way I would like to end your existence, but I have no choice.” He headed for the door and paused before leaving. “The door will be locked and no one will have permission to enter. Is there anything you'd like me to say to anyone?"
Valentino shook his head and lay back down. “No. Nothing. No one."
"Very well.” The door clicked shut behind Dr. Reynolds, and the sound had a finality to it that froze the blood in Valentino's veins.
A great deal had changed since he'd hatched his plan with Raphael yesterday, but one thing remained very much the same. He needed to get out, and he needed Sera. Come hell or high water, he'd escape today and find her.
Chapter Sixteen
Sera woke up surrounded by the unfamiliar fragrance of another woman. She lifted her head and spotted a chestnut-haired stunner pacing the room. Dressed in a knee-length, black skirt and a white, V-neck sweater, the woman looked like some sort of sexy secretary. Maybe that's what she was? If so, why wasn't she somewhere else answering the coven phone or something? Only one way to find out.
"Who are you?” Sera didn't bother to be polite. It was rather annoying to have uninvited people strolling into her room. Though this guest was an improvement over Constantine.
The woman halted and turned toward the bed. Her green eyes shone even at a distance and her smile seemed open and honest. “Hello, I hope I didn't startle you?"
Sera shoved her hair out of her eyes and sat up with the blankets tucked under her arms. “No, but who are you?” Although a fellow vampire, the steady beat of the woman's heart let Sera know how young she was. Hmm. Had idle curiosity brought her here?
The woman approached the bed, her footsteps silent and graceful in spite of the skinny heels she wore. “My name is Sylvia, and I wanted to welcome you to the coven before my husband ordered you to spend the rest of the evening sequestered in his study.” She held out a pale, elegant hand and smiled when Sera hesitated. “I won't bite."
Sera rolled her eyes and accepted the gesture. “It's nice to meet you, but why would your husband want to spend the evening with me?"
Sylvia pulled her hand back and her smile faltered. “Oh, I assumed you would recognize my name."
Such an assumption did not bode well. “You're the mistress, aren't you?"
Sylvia nodded. “Yes, but that doesn't mean you have to jump out of bed to curtsy to me. I want us to be friends, not queen and subject."
Yeah? How would Master Vamp feel about that? And how the hell could someone so young be queen? She was under the impression that only the truly ancient could ever hold such a place of power. In fact, were there any other queens? If so, she'd never heard of any. Male vampires seemed to dominate in every country. Could America really be that different?
"Once you've spoken to your master, I'll gladly answer all of your questions."
Sera didn't appreciate Sylvia's ability to read her mind, but she held her tongue and nodded politely.
"Now then,” Sylvia began, propping her hands on her slender hips. “I was informed that you brought a bag full of very inappropriate clothing with you. Is this true?"
Sera frowned and made a note to strangle Constantine when she saw him again. “I brought jeans and stuff."
The queen shook her head and clucked her tongue. Again she held out her hand. “Come with me and we'll see that you have everything you need before you are summoned."
Summoned sounded rather ominous. Sera slid out of bed, self-conscious to be naked in front of a stranger. She grabbed the comforter, but Sylvia chuckled and snatched it out of her hand.
"I brought you a robe.” She lifted a long, black robe from the foot of the bed. Smiling, she held it open for Sera to slip into. “I hope you learn to like it here."
Sera knotted the belt and gave a little nod. “It'll take some getting used to. I've been on my own for a really long time."
Sylvia cupped her cheeks and then leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “You are no longer alone, Seraphina. Never forget that.” Her lips brushed against Sera's skin, causing a shiver of strange awareness.
Sera pulled away, feeling more than a little odd, and offered a shaky smile. “Thank you."
Sylvia returned the smile with an open, honest one and then led the way out of the room. “First you need to feed."
Oh no. Sera's mind conjured an image of her “snack” from the previous evening. Was he in the house somewhere, naked and waiting? Would Sylvia linger and demand to watch her bite the mortal? When she refused, would she be evicted?
Sylvia slowed her pace and reached back for Sera's hand. “We have blood in the kitchen.” She winked and squeezed her fingers. “I prefer it to drinking from mortals, since I was one not too long ago."
"How long?” Sometimes curiosity just refused to wait.
"I was turned during the last blood ritual."
Although she didn't belong to a coven, Sera knew all about the ritual. It was a time for vampires to gather and revel in their true nature. Or so she assumed that was what it was all about. The books she'd read might have gotten it wrong. To the best of her knowledge, the last ritual would have been about six months ago. Wow. Sylvia was young.
"Age hardly matters anymore, my dear.” Sylvia halted all together and pulled Sera close to whisper, “And I have the blood of kings running in my veins now. No one would be foolish enough to challenge my role here."
Sera took the words precisely the way they were intended, as a warning. Feeling as if she had just been put in her place, she followed Sylvia through the vast house. The halls were dark and twisting, and she hoped she wouldn't be expected to find her way back alone. There was no doubt she'd end up lost. Finally, they reached the kitchen after passing through a large, elegant dining room. It hadn't escaped Sera's notice how empty the house was.
Where were the others?
"Most everyone can be found in the gathering room this time of day.” Sylvia headed for the fridge. “Do you prefer it warm?” She looked over her shoulder and held up two bags.
Sera nodded. “Yes, please."
With a little grin, Sylvia slit the bags open, filled two large mugs, and popped both
in the microwave. “My husband frowns on this habit of mine,” Sylvia remarked without looking toward Sera. “But I don't care. I'll gladly drink his blood fresh from the veins,” she glanced over and winked, “but I don't relish the thought of having a servant following me around."
"Doesn't that make him angry?"
The microwave dinged and Sylvia removed the drinks before answering. “It did in the beginning. I think he might have even regretted his decision to make me his queen.” She handed Sera a warm mug and nodded encouragingly.
Sera sipped with pleasure.
"I assured him I would do what was required if and when the occasion arose, but I wouldn't live my life by his dictates simply because he was king.” Sylvia paused to drink for a few moments. She lowered her mug and licked her lips. “Mmm ... delicious. Yes?"
Sera nodded and lifted her mug again. Her synthetic blood didn't taste this good.
"It's not synthetic, dear."
She choked down her last swallow and stared at Sylvia. “It isn't?"
Sylvia plucked the empty mug from Sera's hand and set both in the sink. “No,” she said over her shoulder. “The servants all donate so there is always a supply in case of an emergency."
"Oh.” Sera had no idea what else to say to that. Though it explained why the blood had tasted more like her “snack” than the stuff at home. Speaking of ... “Who was the man in my room last night?"
Sylvia didn't even pretend not to know. “Oh, that was Rick."
Rick. Such a normal sounding name. How on earth had he become a vampire's human servant?
"He doesn't belong to just one vampire, Sera. Rick is one of the mortals who serve the entire coven. I thought you might like him.” Her expression turned sheepish. “I apologize if he was not to your taste."
"He was fine. Thank you.” Heat rushed to Sera's cheeks and she looked away from Sylvia's probing stare, all the while attempting to block her memories of just how fine Rick really was. His blood had been delicious, his body glorious, and his offer to give more almost tempting enough to accept.
"Now that you've had breakfast, let's go find you something to wear.” Sylvia swept by her on the way to the door, leaving Sera no choice but to follow in her wake. The woman certainly acted like a queen.
Outside the kitchen, Sera shuffled to a halt at the sight of the master making his way through the dining room. Tonight he was dressed in black jeans and a pale blue, dress shirt. Like last night, the shirt was untucked and partially unbuttoned, and he looked just as gorgeous. No wonder Sylvia willingly nipped into his veins. Who wouldn't?
Sera tried not to stare as the master reached his wife, cupped her face, and kissed her passionately. The display made more than just Sera's face grow hot. All over, she felt the tiny pinpricks of awareness Valentino had awakened from dormancy. Without his touch to relieve the ache, the feeling grew more annoying by the moment. The master finally pulled back from his wife and turned his startling smile upon Sera. Instinctively, she curtsied and did her best to shove her rising sexual awareness back into its cave. It didn't want to go.
The master shook his head and reached for her hand. “There is no need for that.” He coaxed her to straighten and gave her fingers a slight squeeze before releasing her to gesture toward his wife. “Allow Sylvia to find you something to wear and then join Constantine and myself in my study. Sylvia will show you the way."
Sera nodded and fidgeted with the front of her robe. She was too aware of being naked underneath the black silk and the way her nipples pressed against the fabric, but the master didn't seem to notice. Should she be relieved or insulted?
"We have much to discuss, Seraphina,” he said. His tone had hardened, as had his eyes.
"Yes, I know.” He would wish to talk about Valentino. Everything Constantine had told her came rushing back, and with it, the raw emotions. Why on earth did she feel so betrayed? Why on earth hadn't Valentino confided in her? She was a vampire, for goodness sake, didn't he believe she'd understand? Did she understand? No, not really.
The realization made her frown, and she barely heard the master take leave of his wife. The touch of Sylvia's hand on her arm startled her from her musings, and she looked up, blinking. “Forgive me, I didn't hear you."
Sylvia merely smiled the sort of smile one would expect from a doting mother and led Sera from the room by the hand. “You'll be fine, my dear."
Sera wasn't so sure.
* * * *
A little over an hour later, dressed in a borrowed, olive green, shirtdress and beige pumps, Sera walked into the master's study. She wanted to call Sylvia back as the woman slipped away, but she managed to fix her gaze straight ahead and wait for an invitation to sit. The master stood and motioned toward the chair next to Constantine's. It didn't escape her notice that he'd tucked in his shirt and tossed on a black jacket.
She glanced at Constantine on the way to her offered seat and saw that he wore a different suit than the one from last night. It was charcoal gray with a crisp white shirt underneath. Unfortunately, he looked incredibly dashing. She eased her gaze away and stepped around the chair.
"You don't look too bad yourself, my pet,” Constantine commented as she sat down and crossed her legs. “Much better than jeans and a hoodie.” He winked to let her know he was teasing.
Sera forced a tight grin and shifted on the smooth leather seat. Facing a firing squad held more appeal than having to answer whatever questions the master wished to voice. She peeked up through her lashes and met his stunning blue gaze. At that moment, she was very relieved not to be a mortal. Such eyes would easily mesmerize.
"Forgive me for having to put you through this,” the master began, “but I must know everything about your association with the man Constantine has named Valentino. For some reason you've had a strong, nearly fatal reaction to his blood, and before we cleanse your system we need to know how much you ingested, how frequently, and how you felt afterward."
Fatal? Sera's brain refused to move on from that shocking word. Had she nearly died on her bathroom floor? She felt Constantine's gaze and looked over. His expression revealed all she needed to know, and her stomach crawled up toward her throat. She fixed her gaze back on the master. “I thought nothing could kill me?"
"Under normal circumstances, that assumption is completely accurate."
Sera laced her hands together and dug her nails into her palms. “In other words, his blood nearly killed me because he isn't human.” Saying it out loud caused a burning wound to open in the vicinity of her heart. Damn. What was that all about? She'd gone to Captive Fantasy looking for an orgasm, not love. Why did things always have to become complicated?
"What exactly is he?” she asked, though part of her didn't want to know. Maybe he'd only been able to coax passion from her because of whatever he was? If so, that meant she really was broken and no mortal man could fix her. How was that for depressing?
The master shifted his attention to Constantine. “Would you like to tell her?"
"I want you to tell me,” Sera said before Constantine could respond.
With a single nod, the master complied. “Most of what you will wish to know is in this file.” He shoved a harmless looking manila folder across the desk. She didn't reach out to take it, but her eyes locked on it and refused to budge. “To summarize,” he went on. “Valentino is an experimental clone designed to provide extraordinary sexual gratification."
Sera swallowed and pulled her gaze from the folder. “But if he's a clone, then he's more or less human.” She couldn't hide the hope in her voice.
The master shook his head. “No.” He dragged the folder back toward himself and lifted the cover to scan the top page. He spoke again without meeting her gaze. “Captive Fantasy is the brain child of Dr. Sven Reynolds.” He glanced up. “The man used to practice medicine in Russia and discovered some combination of chemicals that, when manipulated, will recreate human DNA. You need only correctly mix the formula, incubate the result, and wait."
/> "Wait for what?” Dear God, had Valentino been hatched? It certainly sounded like it.
"You must wait for the mixture to show signs of life,” Constantine answered.
Sera reluctantly looked at him. “Then what?” By now her nails were making her palms bleed, but the pain helped focus her.
"Then the mixture is injected into a female egg, and once the egg is fertilized, it is placed into the woman's womb to develop as any normal child would."
Something in Constantine's tone made Sera's skin tingle with unease. “Where are these women?"
It was the master who replied. “We do not know what becomes of the women.” There was a great deal of regret in his tone.
"I see.” It seemed an appropriate response, but she actually saw nothing.
"How much of his blood did you take, Seraphina?"
She looked at her hands in her lap and mumbled, “I'm thinking, more than I should have."
Constantine reached out and covered her hands with one of his. She didn't bother to look at him. “You knew no better,” he said. “And the blame for that falls solely on my shoulders."
Sera couldn't resist the urge to lift her eyes. Constantine's remorse was clearly etched on every plane of his face. Why did he have to start caring about her at the same time she was falling in love with some non-human freak of science? Why, why, why?
"I've always cared,” he said softly. He released her hands with a lingering caress and turned to the master. “I've already offered to donate my blood for Sera's transfusion, and I think the sooner, the better."
"Will doing so put you in danger?” She had to know. She wasn't sure if it mattered or not, but she had to know.
Constantine flashed a cocky grin. “I'm strong enough to take it, though I hope there are a few mortals handy once the procedure is done.” He winked and licked his lips like the true blood-sucking monster he was.
Sera rolled her eyes, thankful that he had helped dissolve her moment of weakness toward him. She looked toward the master, the question she needed to ask lodged in her throat. Swallowing shook it free. “Does it matter that he ingested some of my blood?"
