by M. J. Scott
“I do not bargain. You will pay. Or you will not leave.”
I swallowed slowly, trying to ease the acid in my throat. “Is there nothing—”
His lips drew back, baring his fangs. “I said I do not bargain. I meant it. Make your choice, halfling. I have named my price.”
This was why I avoided the Blood. They were ruthless. And I had nothing to counter with. My fingers itched toward the razor, but there was no way to attempt to hurt a Blood Lord here and survive the experience. Maybe if I were a wraith, I could manage it. But I wasn’t. The only way to survive was to comply.
My blood. How bad could it be?
Very, very bad, unless you are very, very careful. For once, I had no argument with that little voice in my head. One dealt very carefully with the devil or paid the price. Ignatius might not be the Lord of the humans’ hell or any other, but he was dangerous beyond my reckoning. I needed to tread very carefully. Remember what I had been taught about bargaining with vampires. “There must be limits. That is the law.”
He smiled and behind me I heard murmurs from those watching us. I had no idea what that might mean.
“Such bravery. What limits are you proposing?”
Anything I could think of that would keep me alive and let me walk out of here. I was glad of my gloves, hiding the dampness of my palms. There was a trickle of sweat in the small of my back, and fear biting at my stomach.
There was a protocol. The treaties allowed for a human or Fae to control how much he or she was willing to offer a vampire. Of course, if the vampire managed through guile or the taste of their own blood to get you to forget protocol, then all bets were off. I didn’t know if the treaties specifically addressed half-breeds, but I was going to assume they did. “A taste only. Not a full feeding.”
“I do not need to drain you, my dear. I have plenty willing to sustain me.”
I didn’t like the cockiness of his tone. Was I forgetting something? “Then why ask for my blood at all?”
“I like the taste of Fae blood. It is a delicacy. And your fear will add a spice to the bouquet.”
I couldn’t deny my fear. No doubt Ignatius could smell it already. I could only show him that I wouldn’t let fear control me. Some vampires enjoyed things more when their food was afraid. Or hurting. “No pain either,” I said firmly.
“The bite always hurts a little,” Ignatius said. The amusement in his voice had eased off.
Yes, he was hoping he could make me scream. “Nothing more than that.” I didn’t know how I was managing to sound so calm. Inside I wanted nothing more than to run from the room. Run to Guy and let him take me away from the nightmare.
Ignatius bared his fangs at me, clearly displeased.
“Do you agree to my conditions?” I said.
“I will not kill you or hurt you.” He nodded. “Is that sufficient to calm your fears?”
My hands had clenched themselves in my skirts in an effort not to reach protectively for my throat. It was only blood, I reminded myself. It would not kill me. And it couldn’t hurt too badly or people would not willingly submit to it. I had survived Cormen’s beating. I could bear this.
Ignatius circled me where I stood, prowling like a large cat. I felt very much the mouse waiting to be pounced upon. Why had I ever set foot on that damned staircase?
Guy and Fen were both likely to want to lock me up for doing something so foolish.
But they didn’t understand. They didn’t feel what I felt every time I thought of my mother in Cormen’s hands. Picturing her believing whatever pretty tale he’d spun for her. That he had come for her at last, most likely. About to have her heart broken all over again.
I didn’t think she would survive it a second time.
And that was the most optimistic scenario.
More likely, he had her locked up somewhere. Had hurt her. She wouldn’t survive that either. Not and keep hold of what small parts of sanity she still had left.
I couldn’t let him break her completely.
What he might do to Reggie, who meant nothing to him, didn’t bear thinking about.
A moment or two of my own pain was a small price to pay for their safety. If I got out of here, I still had a chance to save them.
I cleared my throat, tried to make dry lips move. “Yes. That satisfies me.”
“So you agree. A taste in exchange for your freedom?”
“Yes, my lord. I give my consent.” There. I had done it now. Spoken the required words and given a vampire leave to drink my blood. Sweet lords of hell, had I lost my mind?
Ignatius stopped his circling, came to stand in front of me. The smile he gave me this time was pure predatory satisfaction. I hoped to whatever gods might listen that he would lose the fight for control of the Blood because his eyes held no lingering traces of humanity. No, this one was all about power and pain and satisfying his own urges. Not the sort of mind you want supposedly keeping the will of the vampires in check so they conformed to the terms of the treaties.
“Very good.” He retreated to his chair—throne—no, think of it as a chair, that was easiest. The movement was almost too fast as if one moment he stood before me and then the next he was in the chair. The speed made my stomach lurch.
“Come here, then.” He beckoned with one long pale finger.
I walked toward him, fighting for every step. I wanted to turn and run. Run and keep running. The gazes of the other Blood watching me, crushing my lungs. Their hunger—aroused by Ignatius’ games—smoked the air. If I tried to flee, I would be brought down in a second.
And who knew what might happen to me then? I had given my word, agreed to what was about to come. Breaking a deal with one of the Blood in their territory could leave me subject to whatever punishment they cared to mete out.
“Kneel,” he said when I was directly in front of him.
I frowned. Kneel? How could he feed from me if I were kneeling in front of him? As I hesitated he gestured and suddenly there were two vampires on either side of me. Ready to ensure my compliance. I didn’t want to be forced to my knees. Didn’t want to give any other vampire an excuse to touch me. So I knelt.
“Very good,” Ignatius said. He rolled his sleeve up, baring one wrist.
“What are you doing?” My voice quivered.
“You agreed to a taste. I didn’t say who would be doing the tasting.”
Stupid, Holly girl. Horror washed over me. He was right. I had agreed. Oh so stupid. “No!”
Cool hands clamped down on my shoulders as I tried to rise, pinning me in place as effectively as chains. No way to break a vampire’s grip. I fought against the rising tide of panic, trying to think. “No. This wasn’t our agreement.”
“Yes, it was.” He glanced around the room. “Anyone disagree that she agreed to a taste?”
Deathly silence.
As if any of the assembled there were going to take my side of the argument. I struggled against the vampires holding me even though I knew it was futile. “No.”
“You must learn to be careful in your agreements, hai’salai. Did your Fae father teach you nothing?”
“I didn’t agree to this,” I said.
“Yes, you did” His voice was triumphant.
“I’ll—” I broke off, knowing there was nothing I could do. I could only make it worse for myself.
“Let her go.”
I almost fainted at the voice.
Guy.
“Hold him,” Ignatius snapped. I tried to twist around, but I was blocked by the vampires holding me. I heard the hiss of metal and several blows amidst grunts and snarls. A voice I didn’t recognize cried out once, and then there was a nasty-sounding thump.
“Let her go,” Guy’s voice repeated, cracking a little, and my heart leapt. Had he won?
Before me, Ignatius grinned viciously. I pulled again against the hands holding me, but their grip tightened painfully.
“So brave and defiant. How charming,” Ignatius said. “What do you think y
ou can do about it, Mr. DuCaine? Your Templars won’t protect you now.”
“I don’t need them,” Guy snarled. “If you hurt her—” His voice cut off with the sound of flesh striking flesh.
My heart plummeted. “Don’t hurt him.”
“You are hardly in the position to make further bargains,” Ignatius snapped, face twisted in rage.
“Holly!” Guy yelled.
If he kept struggling they would hurt him or kill him. I had caused this mess and I held the only way out of it. Submission. It left a bitter taste in my mouth. “I will do as we agreed, my lord,” I said. “But please, don’t hurt him. He doesn’t understand.” I twisted again, and this time the vampire to my right moved so I could see Guy.
It had taken four vampires to restrain him. There was a cut over his eye dripping blood. Shit. Fresh blood. That was all we needed to add to this situation. “Guy, listen to me.”
Blue eyes snapped frustrated fury at me.
“I agreed to this. He won’t hurt me. Everything will be fine. But you have to stop fighting.”
He snarled wordlessly but stilled. I nodded at him, mouthed, “Trust me,” and then turned to Ignatius. “All right, my lord, Let’s get this over with.”
He still looked angry as if Guy’s arrival had spoiled something for him, and his movements were almost jerky if such a thing could ever be said to be true of a vampire.
He crossed to me and his hand closed into my hair, pulling my head back sharply. It hurt but I hid the wince.
“Open your mouth,” he snarled.
I obeyed.
He drew a knife from the sheath at his hip and held it up. The candles flickered off the blade and I shrank away. Vampire blood is addictive over time. Usually it is given a few drops at a time. If he was angry and did something foolish like slashing his wrist over my mouth, then it could be enough to addict me. Blood-lock me. Had that been his game all along?
He stood, staring down at me for a moment. He wasn’t looking at my face. I wasn’t sure what it was. My pendant perhaps?
“Tell the evening star that he should stop hiding behind the Veil and messengers and come to me himself.” He raised the knife and held it against his thumb.
“Drink deep,” he said, with vicious satisfaction; then the knife moved and blood welled and he let it fall into my mouth.
For a second all I tasted was blood. Warm salt and metal, but then I felt the flavor change . . . it bloomed and sweetened on my tongue and the room swam around me as pleasure swept through me, turning my limbs to liquid, spiraling into the core of me. “Oh my,” I heard myself say in a dreamy voice, and the vampires holding me let me go as I fell forward onto the floor and the orgasm took me.
GUY
I yelled for Simon as soon as we were through the front door of the hospital. My brother didn’t miraculously materialize, but an orderly appeared at a run.
“Sir—er, Mr. DuCaine,” the man said, eyes wide as he took in the scene. “What happened?”
“Get Simon,” I snarled.
Another man, a healer, also appeared. “We should take her into a treatment room.”
I tightened my arms around Holly. “No one is touching her until I’ve spoken to Simon.”
“Healer DuCaine is not on duty,” the healer—Lorenzo, I thought his name was—said tentatively.
“Then send someone for him,” I snapped. “Now.”
The healer jerked his head at the orderly. “Do it,” he ordered. Then he peered up at me. “At least put her down in one of the rooms. She’ll be more comfortable. So will you.”
I considered. Maybe the man was right, but I didn’t want to let go of Holly. She was still pale and motionless; she hadn’t stirred since I’d picked her up in the Assembly, surrounded by vampires, and carried her away from Ignatius Grey’s laughter. I’d thought at first she’d merely fainted, but surely she should be coming around by now?
If it weren’t for the rise and fall of her chest—all too obvious in that damned dress—I would’ve thought she was dead. I focused on her breathing, willing each breath to be followed by another.
“Mr. DuCaine?” the healer repeated. “She really will be more comfortable.”
“All right. But no one but Simon touches her.”
“Of course.” The healer led the way to a treatment room and I laid Holly down on the bed.
“Can you tell me what happened? Is she hurt?” He hovered near the bed, obviously wanting to do what healers did.
“I’ll speak to my brother. She has no wounds that need immediate attention.” I hoped that was true. She wasn’t bleeding at least. Ignatius hadn’t done anything to her that I had witnessed except give her the cursed blood. I felt bile rise in the back of my throat. What in the name of all that was holy had she been thinking to agree to such a thing?
Drinking vampire blood. No amount of information was worth that, was it? She was risking blood-locking or . . . I had a sudden horrible thought. She didn’t do this regularly, did she?
What if she was a Nightseeker and she’d fooled me?
Surely not. I wasn’t that stupid.
No. I was being an idiot. She was no Nightseeker. A Nightseeker wouldn’t fight so hard for her family. Holly might be a spy and a thief, but she had her own code of honor. She wouldn’t lie to me about something so vital.
A taste for the blood was a hard thing to hide. Though maybe you could for a short time. After all, I’d only known her a few days. . . .
“Guy?” Simon’s voice came from behind me. “What happened?”
“She drank vampire blood,” I said, staring down at Holly where I’d placed her. The black satin of her dress fanned over the small hospital bed. Her skin was icily pale against it. I swallowed, hard. Even if she wasn’t a Nightseeker, she had tasted vampire blood. What happened if she became addicted?
“Gods and suns,” Simon said. He came up beside me, bent down, and took Holly’s wrist in his hand. “Why would she do that? Where were you?” He twisted round to look at me accusingly, but he didn’t let go of Holly’s arm.
“Halcyon,” I said, and saw him grimace.
“Why?”
“We can talk after you deal with Holly,” I said.
“Yes, I think we will.” He focused on Holly. “Whose blood did she drink?”
“Does it matter?” I didn’t want to think of Ignatius Grey or I might have to return to Halcyon and do something exceedingly satisfying like beat him to a pulp. Of course, it would also be extremely stupid.
“Would I ask if it didn’t?” Simon said. “Who was it?”
“Ignatius Grey.” Hell’s balls. When was he going to stop talking and fix her?
“Ignatius was there?” This time it was Lily’s voice, coming from the door.
“Ignatius was the one throwing tonight’s little shindig,” I said, still watching Holly and Simon.
“Rising fast,” Lily murmured. She came over, touched my face lightly. Which meant she was worried. Lily still didn’t touch anyone other than Simon easily. “You’re hurt too,” she said, stepping back. She stayed close, watching me carefully as though she expected me to fall over.
“I’ll live,” I said firmly. The cut on my head was throbbing, but it seemed to have stopped bleeding. There was blood on my jacket and splashed across my shirt, drying red brown against the white. Head wounds always make a damned mess. I swiped at my face, with the back of my hand. It came away smeared with half-dried blood. No wonder the orderly had stared.
“What’s taking so long?” My gut twisted. Was she really hurt? What if the blood did something to her? “The blood. It wasn’t much, I don’t think. Will she—”
“She’s half Fae,” Lily said. Her tone sounded convincing, but her eyes were worried as she watched Simon work. “She’ll probably be all right.”
“You’re half Fae,” I pointed out. “Lucius addicted you.”
“Not the very first time,” Lily said. “How much did Ignatius give her?”
“A few dr
ops, maybe more. But I don’t know if this is her first time,” I ground out. “Simon?”
Simon was still bent over Holly, doing whatever it was sunmages did. “She fainted. I’m going to wake her up.”
I took a half step forward, stopped when Lily put her hand on my arm. I shook her off. “Is that safe?”
“Guy, this is my job, remember?” Simon sounded exasperated.
I clenched my hands, still overloaded with adrenaline and the need to hurt something. “Yes. Sorry. Do what you think is best.”
“Good. Why don’t you go and let Bryony look at your head?”
“I’m not going anywhere until I know Holly is all right.”
Simon and Lily exchanged a look, smiles blooming on their faces.
“Don’t go getting ideas. She got hurt on my watch. She’s my responsibility.” That was all it was, I told myself firmly. I couldn’t afford anything else.
“Whatever you say, big brother,” Simon said. He laid a hand either side of Holly’s skull and closed his eyes for a moment.
Holly sighed softly and her eyes fluttered open. She looked sleepy, smiling a little as she caught sight of me. “Hello.”
“Hello,” I said. Relief made my knees sag. I braced myself on the bedstead.
Holly’s smile turned to a frown. “Why do you have blood on your face?”
“Holly, you’re at St. Giles,” Simon interrupted. “Do you remember what happened?”
Her frown deepened. Then her eyes widened abruptly. “Ignatius. Oh gods.” She buried her face in her hands. “Oh gods. Don’t look at me.” Her voice was muffled, half-choked. I took another step toward the bed. Lily moved faster than me. She went to the bed, fished a handkerchief out of her pocket, and tucked it into Holly’s hand.
Holly’s fingers tightened on the square of linen, but she didn’t lift her head.
“Holly, it’s all right,” Simon said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I did. I was st-stupid.” Her voice trailed away on a sob.
Definitely crying. I wanted to help but didn’t know how. Not with Simon and Lily in the room.
“The Blood are treacherous,” Lily said soothingly. “The important thing is that Guy got you out of there. You’re safe now.”
