by Casey Lane
“The shifters have sent their intelligence, as well as the contracts, and have paid the additional tax.”
And then I smelled her, and my fangs slid out.
“Some say they have information in the hopes of avoiding paying the higher tax.”
“Where is she?”
Rowan raised his eyebrows. “Who, Lord?”
“Where is the daughter, Bennett’s child?”
“She’s with Lula, in the sitting room.”
I moved towards the front entrance, not bothering to change or clean myself. I had to get away, I was too weakened from my time spent with the Fae, and the desire to pounce on her was too strong.
“Where are you going?” Rowan followed me to the front door.
My strigoi spilled out, and I grabbed onto the door. “I have to go.”
“Oh dear.” Rowan saw that my eyes had darkened; they were almost black now. I opened the door and a man stood in front of me. His eyes were wide and he exuded the fear of the dead.
I grasped at Rowan, afraid that I would rip this man’s throat out and suck him dry, and Rowan held me still.
“What do you want?”
He grunted, and then I noticed that he had stabbed me with a wooden stake. I stared at it in a stupor and the man ran off. I fell to the ground as Rowan pursued the man. The man tripped, and as he fell, twisted his ankle. He cried out and I watched in glee as Rowan stalked the man.
Staring up at Rowan from the ground, the man fumbled at his chest and pulled out a cross tied to his throat. Rowan laughed. Religious relics can ward us off but this man didn’t have the faith. He smelled of despair and, as he cried out his prayer, Rowan pounced on him. He didn’t bother to be kind to the man, who was screaming in terror.
I struggled to get back into the house as Rowan’s slurping became background noise. I didn’t remove the stake, I would do it when I was back in the safety of my protected home. It scraped against my nerves, and I cried out. The noise attracted the attention of all who were in the house.
Sophie was at my side first, and her eyes betrayed the severity of the wound.
“I’ll be okay.” I patted her hand. She gripped me and helped me the rest of the way inside. Then the smell of Bennett’s daughter overcame all of my senses. My nails dug into Sophie as I tried to control my strigoi. That’s all I would need to heal from this wound. A taste of this woman and I would be as new as the day I was born. Her blood called to me and my fangs lowered.
I managed to spit out the words. “Get her from me.”
She was next to me on the floor, tearing a strip off the bottom of her dress.
I clasped at Sophie’s dress and pulled her close, so that she was inches from my face. “Get that woman from me. Take her out of this house.”
Sophie’s eyes widened. “Which one.”
“Bennett’s daughter.” My eyes darkened, and I gripped Sophie tight. My whole body shook with my need and my hands were clamped onto Sophie, unable to move.
Sophie called out behind her. “Get her out of here.”
The daughter’s hands were already on the stake, ready to pull it out.
“Get out of here!” Sophie pushed her, and she stumbled to the ground, confused. “Lula, take Adelade to the docks, and don’t return tonight.”
Lula pulled Adelade off the ground and they moved away.
“Shut the door.”
As soon as the door was shut, I took in a deep breath, trying to clear my nose of her smell. I had to breathe in and out several times to clear it, as it still lingered in the air around me.
Rowan entered, blood dripping from his chin, and he dragged the man inside. His throat had been ripped open, but blood was still dripping from his neck. Sophie called for one of her thralls. Then she yanked the stake from my stomach and, using Adelade’s torn dress, applied pressure to my stomach.
The smell of her torn dress drifted through my nose, and I groaned. Sophie chided me. “Don’t be such a child.” The thrall leaned over me and I bit into her neck, gulping down her blood as I healed. Her blood was rich, and it soothed me. She moaned as I drank, and began rubbing herself against me.
Rowan kicked the man, who was now very dead. “Idiot.”
Sophie put her hand on my shoulder, and I reluctantly slurped my last drops of the thrall, and licked her neck.
Her skirts were up now and she tried to straddle me, but Sophie pulled her away, sighing. “If I’d never had you at my neck, I would never understand your allure.”
I smiled at her, fully healed now, and licked my lips. She stared at them, and I took my time with my tongue, teasing her. I laughed and she turned away, then stood and pulled her thrall towards the back room, rolling her eyes.
Rowan turned to me. “There’s still time left, do you want to turn him?” Rowan grinned. “Then we could torture him in the cellar.”
I frowned. “No. He’s not likely to remember who sent him here anyway.” I stood up and pulled my shirt off, throwing it to the floor. “It would take him too long to turn anyway. Let me see that cross.”
Rowan yanked it from the man’s neck and handed it to me. I studied its crude design and my eyes darkened. “Father.”
Rowan nodded. I threw it to the ground. “Burn them both.”
Rowan grabbed the necklace, put the man over his shoulder, and headed out the door to the back corner of the garden where we held a continual fire for cases like these. I followed him out and disappeared into the darkness.
As I strode to the priest’s home, I pushed away the thoughts of Adelade and how she didn’t hesitate to minister unto my wounds even though I could've ripped her head off. When she was by my side, I could smell a mixture of her fear and lust, and I wondered if she felt that way towards me. Did she want me, as I wanted her?
I growled. I only wanted her blood, and I was playing a dangerous game to keep her in my home. It had already proven deadly. If I hadn’t been so consumed with my blood lust, I would’ve smelled that man before I opened the door. If I wasn’t careful, someone could easily kill me, as they had my Master. I stopped short, wondering if Agosto had been killed over his blood lust. Or for a woman.
I moved towards the church again, considering the man who was now dead, instead of me. It was a good thing he was misinformed and aimed for my stomach instead of my heart.
My strigoi growled, and I entered the church and made myself invisible.
The priest was at the back of the building, crouched on the floor. He was shaking and reading from his bible out loud. His voice trembled as he read, and he held out his cross towards the door. The cross burned me and I scattered to the wall.
He did have the faith to burn me to dust, and I would have to be very careful. I slithered slowly, pressing my back against the wall to avoid the burn of his cross. When I was next to him, I appeared so quickly, that he jumped up and dropped his cross. I kicked it across the room and swiveled towards him.
“You sent me a present.”
He stared at me, looking at my mouth. He knew how dangerous it was to look me in the eyes, and avoided it unless he was feeling especially brave.
“I send all my parishioners gifts. It is part of the calling.”
“I haven’t been one of your parishioners in a long time.”
“I’d hoped you would return to me, since you decided to stay.”
I grinned, leaning in towards him so that he could get a good look at my teeth. He was old and had poor vision, plus he placed a certain amount of trust in his faith, which was just plain stupidity. He needed a reminder of what I was capable of.
“Is that what you would like me to do? Visit you on Sundays? Pray with you?”
“I have hope for even the soulless.”
I sneered. “Your faith is in vain. And it couldn’t save your man.”
He sighed. “I feared as much when he didn’t return.”
I reached out and touched his chin with my finger, pulling it up. He glanced into my eyes and then closed them quickly.
“Don’t worry, Father. I have no desire to compel you because I have no fear that you will hurt me. Otherwise that stake would’ve landed in my chest, near my heart, instead of my stomach.”
The priest opened his eyes, staring into mine. “I warned him that he must have sufficient faith.”
I smiled. “Apparently, he underestimated his belief.”
“Apparently, it wasn’t enough. But no matter, he goes to God anyway.”
I growled. “Only because I allowed it, instead of turning him.” I leaned in, and could smell his fear grow stronger. He knew that death was the better option than living with my disease. “Why did you send him?”
He was quiet and I could hear the raven call to its mate outside. Its song was bitter and melancholic. Finally the priest spoke. “If I could offer you your heart’s desire, would you return to Italy, to live out your days?”
“What do you know of my heart’s desire? According to what you preach to your congregation, I have no heart.”
“I may not have the talent to read one’s desires.” I grinned as I thought of the nun who cleaned the church, and he avoided my eyes. “But what I do know, is that Sophie prays outside my doors nightly.”
I gripped his arm. “And what of it?”
“She still comes to me for advice, and I could slip in a word that it would be best to return to you. Things would be different in Italy.”
I shook my head. “Why are you so intent to drive me away? What plans do you have for my city?”
He leaned closer and his breath was on my cheek. “She still longs for you, even after what you did to her.”
I touched his face, and his shoulders jerked. “The days when Sophie and I were content are over.”
“She told me that you still talk to her ghost.”
“She chose to bask in the protection of Agosto, and for that I can never forget that she felt safer with him, than with me.”
“And do you blame her?”
I shook my head. “I do not. Sophie will never lay in my arms again, and only her soul that wanders through my darkness will touch my heart.” I growled, tired of his games. “The only threat to my body has been your man. What have I to fear, that you would send someone to their death?”
He gripped my arm now, his eyes alight with passion as he leaned into me. “They are coming. They are almost to the door, and they will knock it over.” Then he stood and walked towards the rooms reserved for the priests. “Go now, at your own peril. I have warned you sufficiently.”
I stood at the window, staring into the city as I considered my options very carefully.
What had Agosto gotten himself into, that even Father would risk the life of one of his parishioners in an attempt to scare me away?
Sighing, I began to pace up and down the room. My life in Italy was good. It had taken some time to find the perfect city: large enough to have plenty of fresh blood without drawing attention, but without infringing on another supernatural being’s city. I had no desire to align myself with another powerful fae or vampire, the most common rulers of the cities in Italy.
I grinned. It also had plenty of women who were willing to satisfy me when my strigoi needed it; the morals of the women in the city were far loser than those in the country. I frowned. Plus, Sophie was absent in Italy, and I could easily forget her among the willing partners in Italy.
But, Agosto’s power over this city was great and it would be easy for me to slip into his role, if it was something that I desired. Which I did not. However, I knew that if I left, the power struggle that ensued would end up killing a lot of the shifters, and possibly even Sophie. I gripped the window pane. Also, there was Agosto’s killer to be reckoned with. I would destroy him, as he destroyed my Maker.
Making up my mind to stay, I went to the desk and rifled through it, trying to find the shipping logs. If the Fae King wanted the goods we were bringing in from Africa, then there would be information in the logs. I heard Sophie’s lilting voice from down the hall, and then Lily’s, as I stood up and went to the shelves. I wondered at Lily, curious that she would dare return and thought about bringing her to my room again, just to teach her a lesson.
I grinned. This time I wouldn’t be so kind.
Frustrated, I went back to the desk and pulled out all the drawers again. I cried out to Sophie. “Where are the shipping logs?” The conversation in the sitting room did not pause, so I called out again. “Sophie?”
Her laugher down the hallway grew louder, and I stood up. I strode to the sitting room and, ignoring the stares that were now on me, I grabbed her by the arm and drug her from the room. She grasped my hand on her arm as she followed me, and after we entered Agosto’s office, I threw her into the room. As she fell to the floor, her skirts flew up, showing me her thighs and my eyes traveled up them.
Forgetting the logs for a moment, I knelt to the floor and crawled towards her. She was as still as death, and stared at the wall. “Don’t touch me, Detrand.” But her body betrayed her; she smelled warm and inviting, and the blood in her veins called to me.
“Why do you stay here, Sophie? Agosto is gone, your binding to him is complete. And yet, you stay.”
Her chest heaved as she tried to control her feelings. “I have no other home.”
I crept closer until I was kneeling over her. “You have coins to go where you please. And yet you stay, to tempt me with the fire that runs through your veins and calls to me. I hear it in the day, even as my body lies in my bed as still as death, and I hear it in the night as I wake. It sings to me, reminding me of the days when we could run about under the sun, feeling its golden rays on our skin. When our children bounced on our knees, laughing. It sings to me, and I feel its call.” I pulled down the strap to her dress, exposing her shoulder, and ran my nose up it. “If you stay much longer, I might give in to it.”
“If I go, you will release me then?”
I shook my head. “I will not.”
She cried out, almost a sob. “How can I leave then?”
I smelled her skin, which was sweaty and leaking her fear and lust. “You could try. And yet, you don’t.” My nose traveled from her shoulder, up her neck. “Where are the shipping logs, Sophie?”
She looked at me, fire in her eyes. “Why would I know anything about his shipping logs?”
“You were his mate. You should know everything he ever did, and everything he planned.”
She shrugged. “He never spoke to me about his business.”
“I don’t believe you, Sophie. You were always pecking about my papers, wanting to know every last detail.” I watched her quiver as I leaned on her neck, breathing in deeply. “From where I bought the seed, to the pricing of each bushel. Like a little bird, you pecked and pecked, digging yourself into my business.”
She gripped my shirt as my hand traveled up her thigh to her rear. It was smooth and inviting and I was so tempted to give in to her pull. I could tell by the way that she writhed under me that she wanted me to give in to my temptation and take her right there on the floor.
“Where are the shipping logs?” My voice was a whisper over her body, my teeth scraping her skin.
“If I tell you, then you will stay.”
I rubbed my chin on her neck and she pulled me closer. “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.”
She sighed, giving in. “They’re in the third drawer, in the book with the blue binding.”
I was silent for a moment, torn about giving in to my desire. Then I stood and went to the desk, leaving her on the floor.
Finding the book, I began at the ending, looking at the dates that corresponded to the last shipment of supplies from Africa. I moved my finger down the listed materials, then followed it to the day that Agosto was killed. “I want you to send Lily to my room.”
She got up, nodding, and pulled her dress straight.
Finding what I wanted, I got off the chair. “And when I’m done with Lily, send Rowan to me. He should be in the back garden.”
I left Lily naked and dozing in my bed, and called for Rowan. He followed me out the door as we moved towards the docks.
“Rowan, were there any problems with the first shipment we received from Africa?”
He straightened his coat. “No, everything went according to plan.”
“Did the fae ever try to enter any of the ships?”
He eyed me. “Ever?”
I nodded.
“Of course. We do business with the Fae. Sometimes they inspect the goods before we load them onto the dock.”
“And did they ever complain about any of the goods?”
He shrugged. “Not any more than the usual. You know how the fae can be.”
I bit my lip, making it bleed. “Is Stefano in charge of security tonight?”
Rowan eyed the woman walking towards us; her hips swaying seductively. He didn’t stop her, but let her pass. “Yes, as usual.”
I licked the blood on my lip. “Are they coming to meet Stefano tonight?”
“No. They aren’t expected tonight.”
“Do we ever employ anyone else to greet them?”
“Never. Stefano covers the docks and employs as many as are necessary.”
I stopped, and Rowan was still beside me. I put my hand on his shoulder and met his eyes. “Do you trust him?”
He studied me, and fiddled with the button on his coat. “He’s a strigoi. Can we ever be trusted?”
I frowned, his response revealing something new about him. “And Agosto, could he be trusted?”
Unwilling to meet my eyes, Rowan stared at the ship that was coming into the bay. Sweat began to run down the side of his face, and he swiped at it. “Agosto could always be trusted.”
I nudged him with my senses, and he jerked his face to me, his eyes wide. “Don’t you dare.”
I growled. “Don’t give me a reason.”
“I’ve always served you faithfully, and never given you a reason to mistrust me. And yet, you haven’t fulfilled your word.”
I raised my eyebrow. “And what promise is that?”
“You’ve not given me my freedom.”
“If I ever decide to free you, it will be because of my grace, not because you’ve earned it. If there is anyone in this city that I trust, it is you. But don’t give me a reason to test you.”
