by Dee Carney
She could have spent hours studying the different offerings, her mouth watering at the prospect of a fine meal, but Lucy had been a blood slave in service to Sage before. She knew the risk. She wouldn’t assume it again, not knowingly. No matter how hungry she became, none of this food would pass her mouth. God only knew if the vampire had poisoned all of this food too.
Ignoring her hunger, she continued on.
The dress she wore received the usual compliments, but no one was aware of what the velvet overcoat hid with ease. Even now, she couldn’t help herself. Some instinct drove her to reach for the stake strapped to her back, to run her finger over the sharp tip. Reassurance.
Every step closer to Sage made her heart pound, her throat get drier. She’d never thought it would be this easy to find him, much less avenge her sister’s death. For someone who was touted as the most esteemed member of the vampire Council, getting access to him had been little more than child’s play.
Only a few steps more.
The world seemed to spin when a tall vampire maneuvered in front of her, blocking her view of Sage. He smiled, but no emotion traveled to his eyes. “Excuse me, but this area is for Councilman Sage’s personal guests. May I escort you back to the rest of the party?”
Swallowing her anger, she searched her mind for an excuse—any excuse—to get closer to Sage. The stake was useless if she couldn’t be up close and personal. “Oh, I didn’t realize this was for VIPs.” She searched the sycophants, looking for a sympathetic face in the crowd. Byron and Kay had been left behind once they’d entered the party, and their faces were absent from the entourage anyway. “Maybe you can ask Mr. Sage if I can join? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind one more person.”
A coldness crept into the man’s eyes although the smile remained plastered to his face. “Ma’am,” he said with soft politeness, “I will be happy to escort you to the rest of the party.”
“But I—”
“To the rest of the party or out the door. Your choice,” he finished in the same emotionless tone. The lack of empathy or energy loaned his words more menace than his hulking form did. He stayed on this side of polite, but she knew something as small as slouching body language would push him to aggressive in no time flat.
Lucy was tempted to peer around him and gauge the distance to Sage. Maybe she could dart to him before the vampire took her down with a bullet or a physical tackle. Luck had been shining down on her when she’d crashed the party, maybe it would hold for a few minutes more.
“Kemp?”
Lucy and the guard both turned to face Sage, who’d called out the man’s name. “Sir?”
“Allow her in, please.”
Kemp, she assumed, clenched his jaw but without saying anything additional, angled his body so she could walk past him. Lucy took a deep breath but forced herself to smile prettily for Sage. To her combined relief and horror, his gaze trained on the glyph. She swallowed hard but lifted her chin enough that his vision would be uninhibited. Maybe if he stayed focused on her brand, he’d fail to notice what her hands were doing until it was too late.
“You are a pleasant surprise,” Sage said as she approached. “A present or an escort?”
So he didn’t remember her. She’d counted on the failure, and some clenched part deep inside of her eased. Her luck continued to hold.
On the other hand, she remembered him all too well. Councilman Giancarlo Sage appeared no more than twenty or so, despite having lived at least a few hundred years. Dark hair, blue eyes, he was easy to look at. A modestly accented voice making his origin difficult to pinpoint hinted at a privileged upbringing, part foreign, but a small part familiar.
Her bladder threatened to release, and ignoring it, Lucy strode toward him with the delicate steps of a true lady. She didn’t get this far only to chicken out. No matter how much the vampire repulsed her, she wouldn’t leave this earth until he’d been dispatched ahead of her.
She took another diminutive step forward. “An escort can still be a present for a man of your renown.”
Sage smiled. “Then by all means, come closer.” Without taking his eyes from Lucy, he said to the woman in the chair next to him, “Move.”
A flash of anger crossed her features, but the vampire did as commanded. Lucy took her vacated seat and received a hostile glare in exchange. The woman lifted her upper lip, exposing the sharp edges of her canines at Lucy. If it was meant to scare her, she’d have to do better.
“Your home is exquisite, Councilman,” Lucy murmured. She leaned close to him, bypassing his query with flattery. She’d been well trained.
His gaze dropped from her eyes to her lips before climbing again. “Improved that much more by your presence. Tell me why we’ve never met before?”
“Oh, but we have.” Lucy inclined her face away from his, just for a moment, a subtle move that would both irritate and intrigue him. He was the type of man who expected her full attention, and now seeing that he didn’t have it, would work that much harder to obtain it.
“I would have remembered you if we had.”
“Perhaps the error is mine, Councilman.” She allowed her gaze to drop because she wasn’t foolish enough to outright contradict him. Also, if he looked into her eyes right now, he might see emotion she shouldn’t be willing to share.
“If you’re certain that we’ve met, remind me of the circumstance.” It was both a demand and a request. Truly the tone of a man used to getting his way.
Lucy shifted, the weight of the stake a reminder of her mission and how close she was to completing it. She took a deep breath, and pain sliced through her lungs. Another potent souvenir from her hours as Sage’s play toy. “Six months or so ago, we met.” Four months later, Cindy had died a crippling, excruciating death. “I, along with my...friend, were brought to you.” God, she’d almost said sister. It wasn’t something she would have expected him to recall, but she wasn’t in position to kill him just yet. He must understand what he’d done first and to whom. “You took a strong liking to her instead of me, despite our resemblance.”
Her throat tightened. Lucy was older by a few years, and that difference had cost Cindy her life. Her sister’s face had exuded youth and innocence, which had made her a prime target for certain men. While they’d looked alike, Lucy’s baby fat cheeks had since melted away, lending her face more angles and a seriousness that others couldn’t quite put their fingers on.
“I would have to be a fool to pass you up in favor for someone else.”
“Not a fool, Councilman. You opted for the prettier of us.”
“Prettier than you? I find that hard to believe.”
Lucy willed her face to blush as if she believed the compliment he paid her. “I’m nothing more than a carnation in a garden of roses.”
Sage’s cool hand slid over hers. He gave it a slight squeeze before lifting it to his face. She forced herself to stifle a shudder of revulsion when he slid even cooler lips over the back of her hand. “I find both your appearance and your modesty becoming. If you’re otherwise unoccupied tonight, I should consider it a great favor to partake of you before the evening ends.”
Lucy almost nodded. She almost sat up straighter, almost answered him right away.
An inner voice urged her to notice the expressions of the people surrounding them first, however, and the single observation might have saved her life. The vampire Sage had ousted stood at the periphery of his inner circle, but with Sage’s last sentence, she’d taken a single step forward. Eyes focused on Lucy.
She scanned the others—all of them vampires, not a human in sight—and they too awaited her response. If their lungs were still operational, she would have expected all of them to be holding their collective breaths.
Lucy’s gaze slid back to Sage and although he masked his curiosity better than the others, something about his stillness rang alarm bells in her mind. His attention dropped to her glyph, and it gave him away.
Blowing out a slow breath, she refused to let him
see any eagerness in either her manner or her answer to him. “I believe that can be arranged at your leisure, whether tonight or some other time.”
Sage’s eyes gleamed. Test passed. “I’m not overly fond of addicts, but a cultured blood slave is a feast for the senses.”
Heart pounding, she said, “We all have our vices. That’s not one of mine.”
So close to failing. If she’d even hinted at being an addict, her night could have turned out very differently. Now, instead, it seemed she would be getting closer to Sage.
Sage stood. “Should we go someplace a little more private? We can discuss our vices without others clinging to our every word.”
In private, he would drink from her for hours. Use her bodily until her throat was raw from screaming. Her flesh sore from sensual abuses. By morning, she’d wish for a new body, one that didn’t know vampire excesses. A vampire as ancient as Sage would push her to her limits and if death didn’t claim her by the time he was finished, she’d be skirting the line.
She’d been on this ride one too many times before.
Legs feeling like rubber, Lucy willed her spine into steel and stood next to him. He extended his elbow, and she slipped her hand into the fold of his arm. The others stepped back to allow them through, and Lucy didn’t dare look any of them in the eye. Instead, she kept her chin elevated, glad her hairstyle kept the glyph visible.
She’d probably die minutes after Sage, but she would have accomplished her task. That was all that mattered. She’d join Cindy, and together they would rest eternal knowing that their killer had been permanently dispatched.
This had gone so easily. She couldn’t have asked for more.
Victor stared in disbelief. Not only had the little blood slave gotten close to Sage, she was now walking away with him arm in arm.
She hadn’t lost the tail, who studied her with frank interest from the shadows and out of her view. There was a startling resemblance between him and the vampire guard she’d spoken to right before she’d approached Sage. Twins, if he had to guess. They both wore ear pieces, but neither acknowledged the other’s presence. Council members rarely went anywhere in public without personal guard.
As if to prove his point, Twin A followed a few steps behind Sage and the slave. Twin B skulked in the shadows, also trailing them. Whatever plan she had needed to be a good one.
Victor almost sighed. He’d have to step in between her and Sage, regardless of what she hoped for. The werewolves didn’t want him dead—not yet—and Sage couldn’t answer questions if he was dead. Fortunately for him, neither his target, his consort nor their guards noticed him. Although, things were getting a bit crowded.
He made a calculated guess.
No one stopped him when he weaved through the crowd to get ahead of the group. It was a risk, but he opted for the stairs he’d previously come down. In a home as palatial as this one, there’d be more than one entrance to Sage’s private quarters. Had to be.
Two staircases on opposite ends led from the first floor to the second. He couldn’t spot how to get to the third level, but he felt confident more staircases could be found in similar positions. Maybe located behind now-closed doors.
Below, the crowd milled in the living room area, a sizable expanse people not fortunate enough to be in the one percent might call a grand ballroom. If they stared straight up, a crystal chandelier, which had to be as tall as Victor, hung ominously. Separating a person from plunging to a swift death on the bottom floor, a banister of gleaming, polished wood circled each floor. The prudent acrophobe would be wise to hug the walls.
The conversational hum from below hid the sounds of his feet on hardwood floor while Victor explored. He ventured into a library, three bedrooms and two guest bathrooms. One door was locked, and he hoped it was Sage’s office. From where he stood, anyone on the ground floor could look up and spot him, so he quickly pondered and then abandoned a plan to listen at the door.
Shit, this place was much bigger than it needed to be. There were at least three more doors he’d left unexplored. He couldn’t hear any voices indicating that he’d come close to finding Sage and the blood slave. If he got there too late...
He hurried down the hallway, no longer opting for stealth. Every moment he delayed finding them was another she might put her plan in place. That was unacceptable.
His inner instincts were screaming at him by the time he found the closed double-doors on the east end of the floor. Voices drifted to him from the other side. He paused, head cocked, straining to hear distinct voices. Even with his superior hearing, muffled sounds were all that traveled to him.
“Fuck it,” he muttered.
Victor threw all of his weight against the door and burst through, purposely adding a crazed look to his face and widening his eyes. The sight that met him in return helped fuel his urgency.
Sage and the slave were seated upon a settee, her head tilted up to his, Sage’s hand cradling her face. His fangs were extended, her throat exposed. Her breasts heaved as she panted. Excitement or fear?
A stirring of emotion pummeled Victor, and he had to clench his teeth against the violent surge making him see red. “Girl!” he barked. “This is where I find you? Embarrassing me before our host?”
The slave blinked at him, her mouth agape. “What?”
Victor stormed into the room. “Councilman, I must apologize for my girl’s rash behavior. I hope she hasn’t offended you in any way. If so, I’ll have her beaten within an inch of her life.”
Oh. If looks could kill, Victor would have been cleaved in two right now. The slave glared at him, and he felt the heat of it from several feet away.
From the corner of his eye, Victor spotted movement and turned in its direction. Twin A—or was it Twin B?—shifted, and it was apparent he wasn’t comfortable with this turn of events.
“Who are you?” Sage asked, his voice cool.
“She’s my property. I turned for a moment, and she was suddenly gone.”
Victor had to hand it to him. Although Sage stiffened in response to Victor’s proclamation, his voice remained level. He cast an icy stare at the woman who continued to burn Victor with her own molten glower. “Is this true?” he asked. He pushed away from their intimate hold. “Did you leave your guardian to see to me without his permission? What kind of position would you have put me in with your owner, and for what reason? Addict?”
“Councilman—”
“Be silent!” Victor boomed. He was starting to really enjoy this. “You dare speak to your betters when I’m a moment’s thought away from releasing you to one of the slave houses?”
Right on cue, she blanched. For the life of him, he didn’t know why she didn’t call him out for his outrageous behavior. Threatening to send her to a place where they would force an addiction to drugs and blood letting? That was low, even for him.
“It’s a good thing I saw the Councilman’s other guard trailing behind you. Bet you didn’t even see him there? If you had dared to insult the Councilman or cause another type of offense, I’m sure he would have immobilized you or worse while this man here—” Victor pointed to the current twin, “—escorted his employer back to his guests. You would have never been the wiser. Stupid woman.”
“I’m...sorry?” Some of the stoniness left her face as enlightenment replaced it. Her gaze dropped, quickly searching the room, before returning to Victor.
“If there’s anything I can do to make up for this insult, please allow me to do so. However, know that she will be punished severely for this infraction.”
Sage stood, adjusting the lapels of his coat. “That won’t be necessary. I suppose I should have known better.” He bared his canines to the slave. “Pity.”
Anger tightened Victor’s belly to see the way she deflated, but he’d done it for her own good.
Neither of them moved until Sage and the twin left the room, closing the door behind them. She kept her attention trained on the door, but the second a muted sound signaled
it had closed all the way, the slave jumped to her feet. “How—”
“We’re leaving.” Victor pressed a finger over his lips, then pointed to the ceiling. There was no way for him to know if the room was bugged with microphones or hidden cameras. “Now,” he snapped.
Her eyes narrowed into fine slits, but she nodded almost imperceptibly. “Yes, sir,” she said, not quite pulling off contrite. Not unless contrite and enraged had become synonymous in the last hour.
She led the way. Neither spoke as they navigated the house to end up in front of the elevator. Victor could feel the tension radiating from her body even though he stood behind her.
She jabbed the button with her finger, and the elevator doors closed. For someone who reached only to his shoulder, she stormed up to him with no fear. “What did you just do? Why would you ruin my one chance at ending his life? He’ll never speak to me again after this. Never! My only chance of getting this done gone because of you!”
“You were made,” Victor said hotly. He could feel his own anger beginning to rise. “The second you tried anything, anything at all, you would have been dead. I just saved your life, slave.”
A deadly silence filled the air. “I am no man’s slave.” A quiet storm of words.
Victor almost rolled his eyes, ejecting a noise between his teeth. Damn it, even his canines pulsed. “That glyph says otherwise. Since I ain’t interested in your used wares, why don’t you cover it up now? I’m sick of seeing it.”
